The Mendacity Revelation
by Misophonia
Summary: Thanks to a closeness developed in the wake of Leonard's departure, Amy feels confident about the current trajectory of her relationship with Sheldon Cooper. However, one overheard conversation is all it takes to set in motion a series of events that will either destroy the relationship she once revered or catapult it to heights she's never allowed herself to dream possible.
1. Surprise, Surprise, Surprise

**The Mendacity Revelation**

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**Show Disclaimer****: I don't own **_**The Big Bang Theory **_**or any of its fabulous characters****. If I did, we would have seen a SIK (Sheldon-Initiated Kiss) this season and a classic 1955 refurbished and customized black Ford Thunderbird would be parked in my garage. **

**Author's Disclaimer****: This story takes place after the Season 6 Finale and has nothing to do with anything else I've written as of yet. (You know the drill.) As usual, I'm just getting these narratives out of my head before I go insane and start mumbling to myself at the grocery store. **

**Hmm … Could be too late.**

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**Chapter One: Surprise, Surprise, Surprise**

"Leonard's been back for a week, and Sheldon hasn't communicated with me once outside of the twice-daily text messages mandated by the relationship agreement. It's like, the second his roommate returned, I became chopped liver. All the time we spent together for the last few months, all the progress we made, all the intimacy I thought we'd gained, it's just gone. I don't understand," Amy complained as she scrupulously sheared the gray matter hemisphere in front of her into thin pieces.

"Do we have to talk about this while you're doing … that?" Penny asked, her usual tan skin tinged a sickly green.

Amy looked from her work to her best friend, confused. "It's just a brain. It's not like there's blood all over the place."

Sickly green turned ashen. "It's still disgusting, Ames."

"No, it's heroic. This brain belonged to a man who donated his body so that science can uncover a way to cure the illness that took his life. Alzheimer's disease is detrimental not only to those who have it, but also their loved ones. By doing this, I and my colleagues will be able to learn more about the disease and how it manifests, which will one day help us to discover how to eradicate it completely."

"Yeah, but you're hacking into that brain like you're a sushi chef at the Mighty Wok. All that's missing is you waving a knife in my direction asking if I want extra wasabi."

"Sushi. Yum. Sounds good," Amy said with a grin. "You ready for lunch?"

"Not anymore." Penny gave a delicate shudder as she looked away from the specimen tray. "Next time we decide to have lunch together, remind me to meet you in the parking lot."

Amy laughed and shot a quick glance at her watch. "I can cut out now, if you like. Where would you like to eat?"

"How about we head over to Caltech to see the boys and have a surprise lunch with them? I can see Leonard, and you can see Sheldon. If you're in his face, he can hardly ignore you, right?"

"Your logic is sound. Let me change out of my lab coat and get my purse. I'll text Sheldon, and we can be on our way."

"Why are you texting him?"

That stopped Amy in her tracks. "I'm going to let him know when to expect our arrival."

Her blonde bestie rolled her eyes. "It'll hardly be a surprise lunch if they know we're coming."

"Again," Amy said with a heavy nod, "I cannot fault your logic. You're really on a roll today. Perhaps you should visit my lab more often as it seems to have heightened your usual subpar intelligence by several IQ points."

Penny frowned. "I'm pretty sure you just insulted me, but, because I'm ready to get far away from that brain you're carving into like a Sunday ham, I'm going to pretend there's a compliment in there somewhere."

"There were two, actually."

"Cool," she said, slipping on her sunglasses. "Let's go."

—**TMR—**

Once they reached Caltech, the women split up, agreeing to rendezvous in the cafeteria in twenty minutes with the boyfriends in tow. As Amy got closer to Sheldon's office, nervousness knots formed in her stomach. She was being ridiculous, of course. _I'll be fine once I see him_.

Knocking on his door, she waited. When a second knock went unanswered and then a third, she peeked her head inside only to find it empty. His laptop was gone as was his favorite red dry erase marker. _He's got to be working elsewhere today_, she surmised. As she knew his assistant Alex was off for the rest of the week due to a death in the family, she decided to go down to Leonard's office to see if he might now where his roommate was.

When she got there, she found Leonard and Penny wrapped in an amorous embrace. She was astonished to be struck with a shot of restlessness and jealousy. It wasn't as if she was enamored of Leonard or even that she had romantic feelings for her bestie—although she could certainly see the blonde beauty's appeal in that area. Yet, just watching these two kiss made her stomach cramp painfully and her mind sway towards a memory she'd replayed so much lately that she was close to considering herself pathetic.

She shoved all of that aside to focus on her core objective, which was finding her boyfriend. It took clearing her throat twice before she was able to break the lovebirds apart.

"Amy?" Leonard asked. "What are you doing here?"

Penny giggled, wiping at the lipstick currently smeared all over his face. "Sorry, sweetie. My bad. I never got to that part, did I? Amy came with me to surprise Sheldon. We're both having lunch with you guys today."

"Great!" Leonard said, tightening his grip on his girlfriend's waist.

Ever since he'd gotten back from his four-month research trip, he'd barely seemed able to let Penny out of his sight. Amy remembered the night he'd arrived. They'd thrown him a surprise, welcome-home party. Everyone had been there, but Leonard had eyes only for his lover. He and Penny hadn't been able to keep their hands off of each other. Their passion, devotion and affection as a couple was palpable. This once again brought Amy's banished memory to the surface as well as a feeling of resentment and longing.

She shook her head, trying to rid herself of all of it. "Looks like the surprise is on me. I went to Sheldon's office to get him, but he doesn't seem to be working there today. Did he go home early or something?" _Just my luck if he did._

Leonard shook his head. "It's Tuesday. That means he'll be in Kripke's office."

"Kripke's office? I thought they were finishing up their joint project in Sheldon's office."

"They were, but after Sheldon refused to allow Kripke to use any of his markers, write on his whiteboard or even sit anywhere in the office, Gablehauser had to intervene. They were wasting more time fighting than they were getting any work done. Now, they have to alternate offices and share all supplies until the final proposal is written and submitted—on threat of immediate firing. It's due on Friday. Yesterday, they worked in Sheldon's office. Today is Kripke's."

Sheldon, of course, had told her how much he reviled having to work with his nemesis over the summer. He'd even mentioned that their joint proposal was due on Friday. But he hadn't said anything about alternating offices. _It really has been too long since we've had a nice, long talk_, she thought. _Clearly, Sheldon is suffering and is in need of my guidance._ She loved times like these. While others saw Sheldon's little personality quirks as frustrating, she saw them as a challenge. _An adorable challenge._ Plus, it was one of the few times when she actually got to act like a real girlfriend. He needed her, and she was able to fulfill that need. The longing and resentment from before vanished, replaced with an enthusiastic determination to be of service to her chosen mate.

"I can show you the way, if you like," Leonard offered.

"No. Just give me directions. I can find my way there. This will give you two a little more alone time."

Leonard smiled, obviously grateful. "Thanks, Amy. You're the best. Word of warning though, Sheldon's been in a mood the last couple of days." He frowned like something had just occurred to him. "I'd blame it on this project with Kripke, but, honestly, Sheldon's been pretty off since I got home. Well, you know, more off than usual."

"It's OK," she assured. "I can handle him."

A few minutes later, Amy was traversing unknown corridors. She idly wondered if Sheldon would be as happy to see her as Leonard was to see Penny. After all, they hadn't been in each other's physical company in over a week. This, after having spent the last few months in almost constant contact. Leonard's departure had opened up a space in Sheldon's life that Amy had been thrilled to fill. He depended on her more. He talked to her more. He asked for her advice more. He wanted her physical company more. It was paradise. There were even a few times when she had spent the night at Sheldon's place—in Leonard's room, of course. But as it was still a sleepover at her boyfriend's apartment, she counted it as a milestone on their relationship timetable.

It had felt like they were like all the other couples. Her mind wandered back to their last night together. The party. They had traded smiles and lots of long looks. She'd even managed to get him to dance with her—only once and it had to be an up-tempo number so they could cha-cha. Yet, that one moment had been bliss. Everyone's eyes were on them as she had moved about the room in his arms. Later, they'd sat on the couch together talking while those around them drank and cavorted themselves into oblivion. He'd even held her hand. Of course, that was so she could step over Raj, who had passed out in the doorway. But it still counted. Moreover, Sheldon had walked her to her car. She'd had to request it of him, but he'd still done it. He _could_ have declined.

Finally, like chocolate sprinkles on a sundae, there was her favorite part of the evening, the lovely goodbye at the car. She sighed. _Perfection_.

Then, within a few days, it was all gone. She'd felt like Cinderella in rags with nothing but a bunch of mice and a smashed pumpkin to show for her night at the ball. Sheldon's communications became brief and were little more than a few obligatory sentences asking after her well-being or informing her of some trivial detail of his day. His usual wit and humor were nowhere to be found. When she'd asked if he was all right, he claimed to be fine. When she asked to see him, he had no time in his schedule to fit her in. When she offered to Skype him, he said he had to work, citing his impending deadline. Sometimes, she wondered if that time before Leonard's return had been nothing more than a dream.

_I need to talk to him about this_. But not today. _Today is about surprises and lunch with my boyfriend. Don't push him. Keep it light, and my little Sheldon will come out of his shell. _She smiled at her own wit. It made her feel better.

Even though she knew her boyfriend didn't particularly like surprises, she was hoping he might at least be happy to see her. A small smile. That was all she needed. Something to show he'd missed her presence in his life. That would be enough to sustain her and give her the patience to wait for Sheldon to make the adjustments he clearly needed to make. There was a lot of change happening in his life right now. Of course he wasn't taking it well. When had he ever dealt with change well? Yes, once he worked this out, he would talk to her and they would be good as new.

She turned the final corridor. According to Leonard, Kripke's office was the last door on the right. Amy shuddered to think she would have to be in the same room as Sheldon's archenemy. Not only was the man vile simply because he was her boyfriend's nemesis, but his bizarre, Elmer Fudd-like accent drove Amy to distraction and his inflated arrogance made her want to lock him in a cage with a bunch of cocaine-addicted monkeys looking for a fix. Most recently, she'd seen him at Leonard's party, where he wouldn't stop sending her vile winks from across the room like he was trying to remind her of some inside joke they shared. She'd ignored him, deciding to focus more on the party and her boyfriend than his obviously deviant coworker.

_Now I have to see him again._ _The things we do for those we care for,_ she thought with a regretful smile.

Kripke's door was cracked open a good two inches and, from the abundance of noise coming out of that trifling space, it was apparent the occupants of the office were engaged in a verbal sparring of some kind. Amy smiled. Nothing made her happier than seeing her man put a half-wit like Kripke in his proverbial place.

"The equation is sloppy, and this negative should be a positive. How on earth can you believe otherwise?" she heard Sheldon exclaim.

"It's suppowsed to be a negative. Owerwise, da eqwation doewn't bawance." Kripke's lisp made it hard for Amy to understand his words, but she was able to get the gist.

"It does balance if you change this to a positive and divide both sides by R2."

"Reawy? And how did you figwure dat owut?"

"I've been figuring equations like this out since you were learning how to spell the word 'equation'."

"I'm fiwe yeawrs owder dan you!"

"Yes, and I started college when I was eleven. What's your point? You're still wrong about the equation. Oh, and you misspelled three words in the draft proposal you wrote. I threw it out and started over. You'll find a draft copy over there."

There was a loud groan. "Whatewer, Cwooper. Wook, I know aww dat time spent wiff you'wre gwirlfrwiend makes you a big man on campus, but youw're still wrong herwe. Dat's suppowsed to be a negative."

"Well, if my girlfriend were here, even she would tell you that this should be a positive, and she's a neurobiologist!"

Amy felt a little thrill at having her boyfriend mention her like this—even though she knew his words weren't necessarily supposed to be complimentary towards her. It still meant something that he was talking about her to his colleagues at work. In what instances had he brought her up? After all, Sheldon was an intensely private man. He must be proud to be dating her indeed if someone like Kripke knew about her.

And what did he mean about Sheldon's reputation being a "big man on campus" because he had a girlfriend? Was it really so hard for a physicist to get a girlfriend or was it something about her? Amy, of course, knew several of the neurobiologists here at Caltech. They had worked together on projects before and, from time to time, lent specimens to each other to study._ Maybe my stellar reputation at UCLA has worked its way over here._ It made sense. After all, she was a distinguished researcher in the field of neurobiology. She had made the cover of _Neuron_ twice—most recently over the summer—for her work in various studies. The fact that someone of her caliber was dating someone of Sheldon's superior intellect was guaranteed of turn a head or two.

She smiled. Penny had once called her and Sheldon "Pasadena's favorite power couple." Amy knew her friend had been joking at the time, but maybe there was some truth to that, after all. When two people like she and Sheldon were dating, people in the scientific community were bound to notice. She loved that people here were already talking about them and, because of that, Sheldon's reputation had enjoyed a significant boost.

She started forward, intent on pushing the door all the way open so the men would have no choice but to stop arguing when they noticed her. No doubt, seeing Sheldon's girlfriend in person would humble Kripke into leaving the room. Amy grinned, loving her newfound power. However, as she was reaching up to touch the door, Kripke gave a peculiar little cackle and spoke again.

"Youw're so buwsy pweasing youw're woman in da bedroom, I doubt swhe'd even know dere was an eqwation on da board, much wess how to solwe it. Am I wight?" He cackled again.

Amy's brow quirked. _Did he really just say what I think he said? Where did he get that idea? _But, even as she thought this, it occurred to her that she had been dating her boyfriend for nearly two years. Most couples in their position would have enjoyed coitus many times over by now. It was natural for people to assume this.

She waited, knowing Sheldon was about to correct Kripke's misconception straight away. It was embarrassing that he would have to do that, but Sheldon was honest to a fault. Besides, he'd see it as defending the honor of his girlfriend. It was hard to be angry at him when one thought of it that way.

"That's the first thing you've been right about all day," Sheldon replied. "Now, can we get back to work?"

_Sheldon didn't correct him. He let him think … Oh my God. He didn't correct him!_

"Cw'mon, Cwooper. Youw're da wadies man. Spwill all the nawty bedroom details. Did you gwive it to her nasty wast night?"

"I gave it to Amy in the most hygienic way possible, I assure you."

"I don't ewen know what dat means, but I wove it!"

Kripke laughed. Sheldon sighed. Amy collapsed against the wall.

It was like her brain was stuck in neutral. _Did he just … ? I can't even … How is this possible? I must have misheard. What. Just. Happened?_

"Youw newer told me. Does youwr giwrlfrwiend wike teddies?"

"Amy's not into stuffed animals."

"No, I mean wingerie. You know, wike cwotchless panties and see-thrwough nighties."

"Crotchless panties?" Sheldon countered. "What is the point of wearing panties without a crotch?"

Kripke guffawed like Sheldon had told the best joke ever. "Oh, I gwet it. Youw're probabwy a simple man. You just wike her naked, am I wight?"

There was a long pause before Sheldon answered. "Yes. The quicker she is without clothes, the quicker we can exchange bodily fluids, sweat all over each other, and make pleas to a deity neither of us believe in. It's great. Best thing ever. Now, can we get back to work?"

That was the end of the enough. Amy stomped into the room. The two men had their backs to her as they were staring at a large whiteboard.

"Actually," she snapped, "I prefer flannel when it comes to sleepwear."

Both of them whirled around, startled. She probably would have taken a moment to enjoy that had she not been so furious and mortified. As it was, she was too busy trying to decide which one she wanted to dispatch first. Krikpe helped make that decision for her.

"Youw're busted, duwde."

Her eyes zeroed in on the lisping physicist. "Tell me, Dr. Kripke. Is your own love life so deprived that you find the need to pester Sheldon about his?" She smirked as a fresh swell of redness flushed his cheeks. "Nevermind. I can smell your desperation from over here." She turned to glower at her boyfriend, who was having a hard time returning her gaze. "Will you excuse Sheldon and me? We have a few things we need to discuss."

"Dis is my owffice," Kripke complained.

One glare from Amy had him scrambling for the door. "You know what? It's wunchtime. See you wayter, Cwooper."

Then, the sound of the door closing behind Kripke told her she was alone with Sheldon. It was the first time in exactly ten days, and it was all Amy could do to even look at him. Most of her wanted to slap him across his too-handsome face and never see him again. However, the logical side of her, begged her to be a little more patient. There had to be an explanation.

There had to be. _There better be._

"Hello, Amy," Sheldon said, matter-of-factly. "What are you doing here?" There was a touch of circumspection in his expression, but nothing else about him indicated that he was at all upset by what she'd clearly overheard.

"Penny and I thought we would surprise you and Leonard for lunch."

"I don't like surprises," he announced before turning back to the whiteboard. He erased a negative sign, and then stared at the board as though his life depended on it.

_Really? That's all I'm going to get?_ The desire to throw a fit worthy of an Academy Award and storm out became too much, but she held off. He owed her an explanation, and she wasn't leaving until she had it.

"You have five minutes to explain, Sheldon Lee Cooper, before I leave," she said, taking a seat in the chair in front of Kripke's small, brown desk. "Make it good."

His spine straightened with a snap, but, other than that, he seemed unruffled. "There's nothing to explain. You're making more out of this than it is. It's merely Kripke being Kripke."

Before she could answer, there was timid knock at the door.

"Come," Sheldon called, finally pivoting from his beloved board. A raven-haired beauty with a bouncy pony tail, a trim waist, and large breasts came into the room carrying a tray of food.

"I got everything you requested, Dr. Cooper," she said, working quickly to lay everything out on Kripke's desk. Amy couldn't help but be impressed by the girl's attention to detail. She'd even brought a table cloth.

"The lettuce is shredded, not chopped?"

"Yes."

"The tomatoes were diced, not wedged?"

"Yes."

"The hamburger meat was fried today, not leftover from yesterday?"

"I watched them fry it, and I checked the expiration date on the sour cream myself. Your taco salad is as perfect as I can make it." She fixed everything on the desk and, once he took a seat, the girl fussed around him, even handing him a cloth napkin. "Is there anything else you need?"

"That is all," Sheldon said, coating his hands in Purell thoroughly and working it in before he focused his attention on his meal. "You may go."

The girl leaned over his shoulder, deliberately brushing her breast against his back. "Can I stay to watch you work? I can tell you're on the brink of making a legendary discovery. And to say that I, Candace Montgomery, was here the day Sheldon Cooper made his breakthrough, it would be a real honor."

"You can step away from my back. I prefer not to be touched while I eat," he retorted. The girl immediately jumped back and bowed her head in submission. Sheldon peeked up at his girlfriend—as if to see what she was making of all of this. She arched a defiant eyebrow at him and waited.

Noting this, Sheldon gulped. "As for your request, Candace, it is denied."

"But—" the girl started.

"He said no," Amy said.

Candace's head jerked up. "Who are you?"

Amy nodded to Sheldon. "For the moment, I'm his girlfriend. However, if you don't get out of here, I'm going to be your worst nightmare." She dropped her purse next to her chair and deliberately cracked her knuckles the way Penny did before she was about to throw down with some bar trash.

Candace looked at Sheldon, but he was too busy staring at Amy, fascinated. Obviously realizing she had no help here, the girl beat a hasty exit, making sure to remind Sheldon she'd put the Red Vines he'd requested on his desk back in his office.

"That was rude, Amy. I would expect better manners from you," he pointed out, folding his napkin delicately over his lap.

"You have two minutes to explain that conversation with Kripke, Sheldon. While you're at it, you should explain Candace as well."

Sheldon rested his hands on the desk and looked at her. "If you want to eat with me, I suggest you go get something from the cafeteria. If you like, I can call Candace back to bring you something."

"No."

He frowned. "Fine. I will wait for you. I caution, however, that I'll only postpone the commencement of my meal by up to eight minutes. Any more than that and this salad will be inedible."

"One minutes, forty-nine seconds. Start talking."

It was his turn to arch an eyebrow at her. Their gazes locked on each other. It was the staring contest to end all staring contests. Neither participant seemed willing to give in—until Sheldon finally did.

"Amy, this is ridiculous," he said, glancing away.

"One minute, three seconds. If I don't have my explanation, your life is about to drastically change."

His eyes locked with her again as he caught her meaning. There was no mistaking it. For the first time, she could see the fear flashing in his blue orbs. "Y-y-you don't mean that," he stammered.

_Good_, she thought. _He should be afraid. Very, very afraid._ Crossing her arms over her chest, she settled back into her chair and said, "Watch me."

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**A/N: Hang on to your tiaras, people. This is gonna be one bumpy, drama-infused, cliffhanger-inducing, funny (hopefully), oh-no-she-didn't, old-fashioned rollercoaster ride. More to come, and feel free to drop me a review every now and again. (Please.) They're always much appreciated. I'm here to entertain (and to feed my own eccentricities). Here's hoping I'm successful at doing both.**


	2. The Wrath of Amy

**Chapter Two: The Wrath of Amy**

As far as Sheldon Cooper was concerned, there was nothing worse than an emotional female. They were as prickly and unpredictable as a wet hen. And, as he had endured more than one traumatic experience with an enraged fowl, he considered himself somewhat of an expert on the subject.

_Remain calm. Remain in control. When feelings have free reign, chaos wins. Under no circumstances can chaos win. Remain calm. Remain in control. _

After practicing a few of his Kohlinar breathing techniques, he was ready to deal with the situation before him. The fear he'd felt earlier was gone. _Amy's not going to break up with me. She's bluffing. _

He opened his eyes, looking at his girlfriend once more. She didn't seem any happier now than she had five seconds ago. In fact, if today was one of his pre-scheduled days of whimsy, he might have allowed himself to think that her eyes were blazing pools of green fire. But, angry eyes or not, he was not going to let her overabundance of sentiment and irrationality sway him from his present task, which was taking absolute control of this out-of-control situation.

"We shouldn't discuss this now, Amy. I'm at work, and you're clearly feeling overemotional. Is it perhaps time for your menses?" The fire in her eyes flamed higher at this, so he sped up his speech to get the part which would, no doubt, be the key to mollifying her. "I would much prefer our dialogue on this subject to be calm and based in logic. I agree that, as you are my girlfriend and I am legally bound to you by the relationship agreement, I owe you a thorough explanation not only concerning what you might have overheard between Kripke and myself, but also in terms of Candace. However, I refuse to present that explanation without proper time to prepare. Section 13 of the relationship agreement gives me the right to postpone quarrels until such time as I—"

"Fuck the relationship agreement. Explain. _Now_."

Sheldon's jaw dropped. _Did Amy really say …?_ _Has she lost her mind?_ "One does not coitus the relationship agreement, Amy," he said, stiffly. "It is a sacrosanct covenant between us which—"

"You have thirty seconds left," she announced, her face determined.

Not that he was so good at reading people's facial expressions anyway, but as the Angry Amy side of his girlfriend was something he'd had previous dealings with, he knew well what a determined expression from her usually meant. His cool exterior quickly grew rattled.

"I can't possibly explain in thirty seconds."

"You don't have thirty seconds."

_Thank goodness. _He sighed in relief, resting a hand on his chest. "Then, you're willing to give me more time?"

"No, you now have eighteen seconds. I'm serious, Sheldon. Start talking or I'm going to start walking." She looked down at her watch.

"You're being intolerable, Amy. You know I hate it when you're like that."

"Ten," she declared, apparently unwilling to care what he hated.

"Give me until Friday. I'll be finished with this ridiculous proposal with Kripke and I can—"

"Nine."

"OK. I'm more than willing to negotiate. Our next date night is Thursday. How about—"

"Eight."

"Tomorrow," he threw out, in full panic mode now. "How about tomorrow? Final offer!"

"Seven."

"I can't possibly complete a full explanation in seven seconds. This thing with Kripke, it's not that big a deal. I know what you heard sounded bad, but when I explain, you're going to feel silly. Moreover, I would like to point out that you should know better than to eavesdrop on someone else's conversation. It's rude."

She didn't even look up from her watch when she announced, "Four seconds."

"Four? What happened to six and five?"

"You were blabbering then. Two seconds."

"Blabbering?" he shot back, offended. "I never blabber."

"One."

"Amy Farrah Fowler, you will listen to me," he barked, relieved to see he now had her attention. She was glaring at him, but he still had her attention. "I am the boyfriend and as it is evident that you are on the verge of histrionics here, I have no choice but to put my foot down until you return to your usual amicable, rational self. I have agreed that you deserve an explanation, and I have generously offered to grant that explanation tomorrow even though you know I play _Halo_ with my friends every Wednesday night. Pardon my unforgiveable slang, but you are going to have to 'cool your jets' until then." He paused before deciding to add something he'd once seen Penny use quite convincingly on Leonard. "Got it?"

Amy blinked. Then, she blinked again. Her complexion wasn't the typical pale, waxy color he favored. It was more mottled with red, especially her cheeks. Still, as she wasn't yelling or counting on her watch anymore, he took that as a positive thing. _I hate to admit it, but I might have to watch Penny carefully the next time she and Leonard argue. Her technique has amazing results._

As nonchalantly as possible, Sheldon reached down to pick up his fork and started raking his salad into a symmetrical pattern. After all, one could not eat an incongruent salad. Once he finished his task, he and Amy would enjoy a discussion on—

The slamming of the door startled him. He looked at the empty chair in front of the desk, the one Amy had occupied mere seconds ago. Then, his eyes automatically flashed to the closed door.

She was gone. His brain raced. _What if she isn't bluffing? What if she breaks up with me? He _pushed the salad away, unable to even process hunger right now.

Closing his eyes, he used Kohlinar to regain his composure. _With chaos, comes destruction._ He inhaled. _Remain calm. Remain in control._ He exhaled. It took a few more minutes, but when he finally reopened his eyes, he felt better.

Amy was angry. She had every right to be. He should have dealt with this issue a long time ago. He just hadn't ever expected _this_ to happen. Why would it? Amy worked at UCLA. Who would have thought she would ever hear what was being said at Caltech? He'd done the math. The percentage was too low to worry about. And what difference did it make what someone like Kripke said if it was a lie anyway? _Amy should be more like me_, he decided. _I couldn't care less what others think of me or my choices. Why would I? I am superior to them in every way._

As alike as he and Amy were in most things, how they dealt with emotions was one area where they greatly differed. The more time he spent with her this summer, the more that particular truth became obvious. He preferred to sort and deal with emotions one by one, rationalizing them away. Amy, however, seemed to prefer to savor every inch of them like it was the latest issue of _Batman_ or something. Slowly, after spending more and more time with her, he had found himself falling into a lot of the same bad patterns, doing things he would never ordinarily let himself do. His mind went back to their last night together. The memory flew at him like a baseball to the face.

_Why did I do that? Am I really so lacking in control when it comes to her?_ He rested his head in his hands. Sheldon had known the second Amy had driven off that night what he'd had to do. He had to retake control of himself and of this situation. It was getting out of hand. Chaos was winning. It couldn't win. He could stop it. And he'd done it. Quite successfully.

_Until now. _

"Good grief," he grumbled. "Why did she have to come here today of all days? Wasn't it enough that I was already going to see her on Thursday?"

_I did the right thing. She was taking command of the relationship, making me do things for which I clearly wasn't ready. I simply took it back. Today, while unfortunate, will no doubt prove a lesson to her about how letting impulsive emotions rule you is the way to certain disaster._ He hated to bring pain to Amy, of course, but it was still a lesson she needed to learn.

"I'll let her calm down. She'll calm down," he told himself. "Then, once I give her the explanation she wants, I will remind her of the rules in the relationship agreement. Obviously, given her use of vulgar language, it is past time we had that particular discussion. We have the document for a reason, after all. These days of willy-nilly rule-breaking are done."

He gave himself a large nod. Now that he had a firm plan in hand, the panic, the disorder and the confusion receded. _See? I remained calm and in control and everything is fine._

Tomorrow, Amy would see this, too. Of that he was certain.

—**TMR—**

"So, what are you going to do?"

Amy ran a hand over her face in frustration and sat back on Bernadette's couch. "I don't know."

"You threatened to break up with him if he didn't explain," Bernadette said. "He didn't explain. What choice do you have? If you don't break up with him, he'll think he can do whatever he wants to you without penalty."

Amy frowned. "But if I break up with him, he _can_ do whatever he wants. He wouldn't be my boyfriend anymore. Besides, I don't want to lose him. He's my … everything."

Bernadette poured the last of the wine into Amy's glass and handed it to her. "Well, that boy clearly needs a wake-up call. He can't be allowed to treat you this way. I would castrate Howie if he did something like this. You've got to take action."

Amy took the glass, but didn't drink any of it. Alcohol would only make this worse. Her relationship was ruins, she was humiliated, and her boyfriend was a first class jerk. _Take action? What action?_ Right now, the only actions she was torn between included wanting to stay in her bed crying all night and wishing Sheldon owned a car so she could slash his tires. She looked over at her bestie, who was already opening the second bottle of wine she brought and pouring herself a glass full.

"You're awfully quiet tonight, Penny. I figured you'd be calling for Sheldon's head on a pike or something at this point," she said.

"Don't worry," Penny replied, with a scowl. "I'm going to hogtie me a scrawny physicist the first chance I get." She gulped down her wine and immediately poured another. Amy had been around her long enough to know that her friend only drank like this when she was hiding something.

"Are you all right? Is there a problem with Leonard?" Amy asked.

"Nope. We're fine. We're good. Couldn't be better. I'm just thinking … really hard … about all that happened to you this afternoon. It sucks, you know?" Penny's eyes darted around like a trapped rat.

Amy's neurobiology instincts kicked in, and they were screaming that something was rotten in the state of Denmark.

"All right, Penelope. Spill. What do you know about this?" she demanded.

"Nothing," Penny said, her voice muffled as she gulped at her third glass of wine.

Amy snatched away the bottle before she could dive in for her fourth. "No. No more for you until you tell me what you're hiding."

Penny set down her glass and eyed her two friends warily. "You'll be mad."

"Unless you're going to tell me you've been sleeping with Sheldon behind my back, I think we'll be fine," Amy said.

"Sleeping with Sheldon? Yuck. As if!" She gave an all-over body shiver of disgust. "That would be like having sex with my annoying little brother or something. It's wrong on all levels. I'd rather have sex with a monkey—or Howard."

"Hey!" Bernadette chirped defiantly.

Penny's hands flew up in surrender. "No offense. I'm merely trying make a point. I love Leonard. He's my boyfriend, and the only one I want."

"And I'm your best friend; so tell me what you know," Amy said.

Penny slumped, raking her hand uneasily through her blonde hair—somehow making it look stunningly tousled in a way Amy couldn't have gotten even if she'd gone to a high-end salon. "You won't like it."

When Bernadette and Amy just kept staring at her expectantly, she said, "Fine. I—kind of—already knew about this whole Kripke thing."

"What?" Bernadette screeched.

Amy couldn't say anything. She was too shocked. _Penny knew? _

Bernadette, however, had no such issue."How did you know? Did Sheldon tell you?"

The waitress shrugged. "He kind of told me and Leonard. He wanted to make sure, if Kripke asked him about it, Leonard would know what to say."

"What did Sheldon tell him to say?"

The blonde's face scrunched in concentration. "It was something about how he had told Kripke the Shamy sexy time was …" She paused, visibly trying to remember. "Oh yeah. 'Frequent, intense and whimsically inventive'. Leonard especially liked the last part."

Amy groaned and buried her face in her hands. Her humiliation could not be more complete. She hadn't felt this mortified since freshman year in high school when a few of her classmates covered her locker in tampons dipped in red food dye. _Could this get any worse?_

"Penny, Sheldon told you all this and you didn't immediately kill him? What the hell?" Bernadette demanded.

The surrender-hands went up again. "Don't get mad, but I kind of got distracted by something else he said instead."

Amy's head popped up. _Oh God. This _could_ get worse._ "What? What else did he say?"

"Well, I asked him if he was ever going to give it up to you. You know, take your relationship to the ultimate level."

_Oh yeah_, Amy thought, burying her face again. _This is so worse._ _Is this what everyone does when I'm not around? Talk about my non-existent sex life?_ This was worse than the night of Dungeons and Dragons when everyone had expected her and Sheldon to have public, role-playing sex like a couple of trained monkeys.

"What was his answer?" Bernadette asked.

"He said yes."

Amy's head shot up so fast she felt dizzy. She grabbed Penny's hand so she would have to look at her. "You're sure that is what he said?"

Penny eyed her warily. "It's not a direct quote, but it's what he meant."

"Oh my God," Bernadette screamed, bouncing up and down on the couch. "Do you know what this means? This is epic. Sheldon Cooper actually wants to have sex with Amy! It's like the second coming of Christ or something. We should sell tickets."

"I know. I was so freaked out, I kept smacking Leonard in excitement. He had two large bruises on his arm for like a week. He bragged to all the guys he got them working out."

Bernadette laughed and turned to Amy. "Oh my God! Oh my God! Sheldon wants to have sex with you. Isn't that great?"

Amy, however, was less than excited. "Penny, what were his exact words?"

Penny scrunched up her face again, only making herself more beautiful in the process. Amy rolled her eyes. At times like this, it was hard to be best friends with someone like her.

"He said, 'It's a possibility' or something like that."

Bernadette let out a little squeal of delight and shared a high-five with Penny. Amy, however, slumped back against the couch, shaking her head ruefully. _They just don't get it, do they?_ She'd come here tonight, hoping a little female bonding time would make her forget her relationship troubles for a while and feel better.

_ This is not better. This is hell on earth._

"Amy?" Bernadette said, finally taking full notice of her friend's less-than-elated demeanor. "What's wrong? Doesn't this make you happy? Isn't it what you've always wanted?"

"What I've always wanted? I've always wanted to have sex with a man who decides to tell everyone _but_ me that he wants to do so? I've always wanted to have sex with a man who allowed some skank of a science hanger-on to fall all over him even though I was right there in the same room? I've always wanted to have sex with a man who can't even respect me enough to give me an honest explanation when I caught him in something red-handed?" She shot to her feet. "No, I can't say that any of that is what I've _always_ wanted."

"Amy—" Penny started.

"No, I know you two mean well, but you just don't get it. I'm glad you think this is such a great thing, but it isn't. First, Sheldon said it was a 'possibility'. Now, in others, that might translate to an affirmative. To Sheldon, it simply means 'it's a possibility.' No more, no less. If you asked him if he could wake up tomorrow and find himself in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, he would say, 'It's a possibility.' So what?" She grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder. "Second, my intimate life with Sheldon is just that—mine. It's not some sitcom for everyone to laugh at. The same way your fears of having a baby aren't funny, Bernadette—even though you and Howard would make wonderful parents and you need to get over that. If you can handle his mother, you can handle his child. Or, Penny, your fear-of-commitment issues with Leonard—a man who clearly loves you and would do anything for you. But you can't give in because you're afraid he might wake up one morning and decide he can't handle the fact that you're not a genius. When are you going to realize he loves you as you are? You think that kind of devotion comes along every day? Get over yourself. You want to be smarter? Go to college and get a degree!"

Both women stared at her, aghast. Amy stormed towards the door.

"Are you leaving? Where are you going?" Bernadette asked.

"Amy, don't go. We're sorry," Penny said.

"I'm going home," Amy said. "I came here looking for some understanding and female camaraderie to help me figure out what to do about a humiliating situation. Instead, I end up being more humiliated."

"We're sorry," Penny exclaimed.

"You keep saying that. You said it the night of Dungeons and Dragons, Penny. But it doesn't change your actions, does it? It doesn't change how you view me or how you view my relationship with Sheldon. I've spent most of my life being the punch line of someone's joke. Well, you know what? No more."

Tears were coming now, but Amy didn't care. Her world was in turmoil. It was time for them to realize the pain their actions had caused. Her friends jumped to their feet, trying to coax her to accept their apologies, to stay with them and to let them explain. But it was too late. She couldn't be around them. She didn't want to listen to them anymore. Right now, she didn't even want to look at them. So, with a dismissive wave over her head, she left, slamming the door behind her as she went and feeling an anger so deep, it felt like rage.

The period for explanations was over. Now was the time for action.


	3. The Calm Before The Storm

**Chapter Three: The Calm Before The Storm**

_Got it. Got it. Don't want it. Got it. Not worth the paper it's printed on. Got it._

"Sheldon, aren't you supposed to go see Amy tonight?" Leonard said.

Sheldon looked up from the comics he was thumbing through. "I am, after we get finished at the comic book store. Really, Leonard. I've already forsworn_ Halo_ for my girlfriend. Now, you expect me to give up my weekly trip to the comic book store, too? Do you know me at all?" He shook his head in disdain. As intelligent as his roommate claimed to be, he really was a blockhead sometimes.

And, apparently, the blockhead wasn't done with his queries.

"What are you going to do when you see her?"

"What is he going to do?" Howard echoed with a laugh. "He's going to beg her not to break up with him. What else can he do? She caught him red-handed in a lie and with another woman. Plus, he's whipped. I just wish I could be there to watch the mighty Sheldor brought to his knees by a lowly neurobiologist."

"Says the man whose wife just added him back to their joint bank account," Raj interjected.

Howard glared at his best friend, but Raj ignored this in favor of speaking to Sheldon. "Leonard is right. You should already be at Amy's begging her forgiveness. You stepped in it big time, dude. You'll be lucky if she even agrees to talk to you."

Sheldon was astonished. "Excuse me? I did not _step_ in anything. First off, I was not—as Howard so crassly put it—'caught' with another woman. Candace simply volunteered to fill in for Alex while she is away. That is all. Second, while I will admit that it was not couth of me to allow Kripke to believe I was having intimate relations with Amy, it's not like I went around telling everyone. It's merely a misunderstanding that I didn't bother to correct."

"Are you going to correct it and tell Kripke the truth?" Leonard said.

Sheldon snorted. "And have him think he's smarter than me? Are you insane?"

"So stubborn." Raj shook his head. "Call me when you're ready to go ring shopping, Sheldon. Amy strikes me as a princess-cut type."

"What on earth are you talking about?" Sheldon asked in confusion. He had an inkling, but surely he misunderstood. He looked around at his other friends. "What is he talking about?"

Howard laughed. "He's talking about the massive engagement ring you're going to need to buy Amy in order to get her to forgive you."

"I'm not even sure that will help him at this point," Leonard added.

"Yeah," Howard said, "you better start studying up on that book Leonard and Penny bought you. You might actually have to give up your V-card before this is all over."

Sheldon couldn't believe they were really saying this. He was too offended to even speak. To imagine they would believe he would propose marriage or engage in sexual intercourse simply to get Amy to forgive him was preposterous. He would never even consider such a thing. Why would he? He hadn't even done anything wrong per se. Therefore, he didn't need to ask for forgiveness. Amy was a logical individual, just like himself. It was one of the things he liked best about her.

"You're all being unbearable tonight, and I refuse to talk about this any longer. I know what I'm doing. I'm sorry that your womenfolk routinely force you to make fools out of yourselves in order to stay in their good graces. But I assure you, that is not the relationship I have with Amy Farrah Fowler. I will explain myself fully. She will accept it. End of story."

"Yeah," Leonard retorted. "Famous last words."

All three of them laughed at him. And, for the first time all day, Sheldon found his supreme confidence waning. _Oh, boy._ _What if they're right? _After all, he had texted Amy throughout the day and she had yet to reply back. Maybe she was going to break up with him. _Maybe she already did._ That was enough to get him moving.

"Leonard," he said, tossing down the comics he'd been about to purchase. "I'm ready to go. Take me to Amy's."

—**TMR—**

All in all, Amy's day had sucked. She hated to be so crass, but it was the truth. She'd slept through her alarm because she'd been up half the night crying and trying to figure out what she should do not only about Sheldon, but also her friends and her life. So far, she was no closer to answers than she had been when she'd stormed out of Bernadette's apartment. Amy only knew she had to do something to get the respect she deserved.

Then, after arriving an hour late to work, she'd been inundated with issues for the current study she was working on. From a scheduling snafu that had volunteers coming today when they should have come tomorrow to an intern who screwed up three batches of blood tests, it had been the day from hell. She'd been so busy putting out fires that she hadn't even had time to stop for lunch or answer any of the four texts she had received from Sheldon during the course of the day or the numerous missed calls she'd gotten from Penny, Bernadette and her own mother. Then, like the cherry topping on her wreck of a day, she'd ripped a tear the size of Texas in the knee of her brand new pair of mustard-colored tights. _That's what I get for trying to shut the door with my leg_, she thought. _And for trying to carry all the groceries in at once._ While bending over to check out the rip, she'd dumped out most of the groceries from one bag, which meant her jar of spaghetti sauce had shattered and left the parking lot looking like a crime scene.

Now, here she was, trudging the last few steps to the door of her apartment when she noticed someone was waiting there for her. _No. Not now._

Her expression must have given her away as the petite, brunette beauty leaning against the wall stepped up to take one of the brown sacks from her arms. "You know, if you answered your phone occasionally, I wouldn't have to be here. Mom's been trying to call you all day," she said.

"Hi, Emily," Amy said, fishing the keys out of her purse and letting them both inside. "You flew in early?"

"Hello, little sister," Emily returned, shutting the door behind them once they were inside and following Amy into the kitchen to set down her bag. "And, of course I did. Someone had to calm Mom down. If she vacuumed the carpet anymore the entire house would be wood flooring."

"Where's Dooley?" Amy asked, putting away the perishables.

Emily gave a careless wave. "My hard-working husband couldn't get off until tomorrow. He'll be on the first flight out Friday morning. But he'll still be at the dinner. You're coming, right?"

"I told Mom I wasn't sure I'd be able to make it."

"You have to come. It's Harper's big night. Have you talked to Sheldon about it yet?"

Amy winced, not even wanting to think about him right now. "No, but you can count him out. He's not coming."

"Why not? This is important. Everyone's going to be there." Emily paused, seeming to realize she wasn't going to get anywhere. She put away the milk and eggs Amy had purchased before turning back to her. "Is he at least coming to Harper's wedding? I don't see how you're going to be able to get around that."

Having finished putting away the rest of groceries, Amy folded the paper bags and put under her cabinet. "Sheldon is a busy man. He can't be expected to come to every family function."

Emily propped one jean-covered hip against the kitchen counter and crossed her arms over her Van Halen t-shirt. "Not every family function, true. But this boyfriend of yours hasn't been to _any_. If Mom hadn't met him that one time via Skype, people would think you made him up like that miniature horse breeder." She nudged her sister. "Come on, Ames. He's got to come. I live in Boston, and I had to be here. It's the big in-law meets in-law dinner. Mom's been cooking for weeks and driving Dad nuts. I promise Dooley will be on hand to help protect Sheldon from new boyfriend interrogation if that's what's worrying you."

Amy walked past her sister and collapsed on her couch. "It's not that. Sheldon can more than take care of himself. It's just …"

"It's just … what?" Emily asked, settling next to her. "Come on. I know I get too busy and forget to call … a lot. You try having two almost teenagers and a husband who's an on-call pilot. But the kids are at Mom's, and Dooley's still in Boston. That means I'm all yours for at least the next," She checked her cell phone for the time, "thirty minutes before the kids drive Mom up the wall or break something of Harper's."

"It's fine," Amy assured her. "Everything's great." She gritted her teeth. Amy hated lying, especially to her sister.

"Yeah, right. You know, I'm still twelve years older than you and can take you over my knee if need be."

Amy sighed, unsure where to begin or how to even explain. How could she explain her relationship with Sheldon when she didn't really understand it herself? And, what if she told Emily everything and then decided to forgive Sheldon? Emily could hang on to anger forever, especially if it was for a wrong aimed at one of her sisters. There was a reason everyone in the family called her "little Mama."

"Has the sex gotten stale? You guys have been dating like three years now."

"We're not having sex," Amy murmured, not able to look up.

"That bad, huh? Me and Dooley went through a phase like that when we first got married. Buy some sexy lingerie. That's bound to make him come running."

The mere image of that had Amy laughing. Her in lingerie? Sheldon would be running all right, straight out the door. She wanted to tell her sister that she wasn't having sex at all, but that would mean she would have to explain about Sheldon, which would mean she would have to explain about their relationship and she just couldn't do it. She knew people didn't understand her relationship with Sheldon. Her girls' night with Penny and Bernadette had more than brought that knowledge home. But she liked it like it was—most of the time. If she could only get Sheldon to be a little more forthcoming about his feelings and a little more willing to bend some of his rules, it wouldn't be so bad.

_Oh, and I should definitely make him pay for his lies to Kripke and about Candace—I can't forget about Candace._

"Is it another woman?"

Amy looked at Emily, taking in the intricate brown braid flowing down her back and heavy black-framed glasses on her face. She didn't look even close to being forty-two, but she was. There were delicate, silver tendrils woven into her hair and a light feathering of wrinkles bracketing her mouth and saucy, green eyes. But these details didn't take away an ounce of Emily's attractiveness. If anything, they only gave her beauty a subtle edge.

"Sheldon would never cheat on me," she said. It was true. Amy knew it. It wasn't in Sheldon's DNA to do so. Whoever Candace was, she wasn't in Sheldon's life because of romantic intentions on his part—no matter what the girl might believe herself.

Emily opened her mouth to speak when her phone went off. She looked down. "Crap, it's the kids," she said, quickly answering it. "What?"

A terse ten-minute call later, she was flipping the phone closed and rising from the couch. "I've gotta run. It seems Mike spilled some Hawaiian punch on Harper's brand new shoes, and Lily made some industrial strength-grade cleaner that ended up eating a hole through the heel or something. I swear, your niece is going to be the death of me."

"Did she like the chemistry set I gave her for Christmas?"

"Let's just put it this way. You remember the doll house her father built when she was six?"

Amy nodded.

"It's a tree house now. Well, most of it is anyway. She used whatever was in that kit you sent her to blow the thing to kingdom come and the lot of it now sits in the big oak tree in our back yard. The neighbors called the cops because they thought it was some kind of terrorist attack." She shook her head and frowned. "I swear Lily gets more like you every day."

She grinned. "Tell her and Mom I'll be there Friday."

"You bringing Sheldon?"

Amy didn't even need to consider this. "No."

Emily shook her head in disdain. "Hard-headed. That's what you are. You get it from Dad. Mom says it all the time. Looks like I'll be heading out tomorrow to buy Harper a new pair of shoes. Want to meet up for lunch or something?"

"Sounds good. Call me, and I'll tell you where to meet me."

"Great," Emily said, pausing to give her a hard stare. "I know you don't like hugs, but I haven't talked to you in months and I'm going to give you one anyway. All right?"

"All right," Amy agreed, hugging her sister. "You know, I'm not as bad as I used to be about physical touching. I actually like it now—under expected circumstances, of course."

"Glad to hear it," Emily said, stealing a quick kiss on the cheek as well. "See you tomorrow. Oh, and be prepared to explain the Sheldon issue then or you better bring that boy with you on Friday. Your choice. Got it?"

Amy gave a large nod. "Got it."

Closing the door on her sister, she walked back over to collapse on the couch. It was after eight in the evening, she hadn't even eaten yet, and she was so tired she could barely move. Her brain was too full of everything that had happened in the last few days as well as the fact that she was going to have to deal with her family _en masse_ on Friday—something that often proved to be a torturous enterprise. She heard her phone going off in her purse on the kitchen counter, but she didn't bother to get up. It was probably Penny or Sheldon, but as Amy wasn't even sure what she would say to them, she didn't want to answer it. She knew it was juvenile to behave this way, but a small part of her wanted them to feel, even for a day, how alone, frustrated, and unsure she felt most of the time. No doubt, her lack of communication today was driving Sheldon up the wall. That shouldn't have made her smile, but it did.

She was so lost in her thoughts that the knock at the door startled her.


	4. First Contact

**Chapter Four: First Contact**

The first series of knocks surprised her. The second told her who was on the other side of the door. The third sent her over the edge.

Sheldon had said he was coming, of course. She remembered him offering to do so right before her imposed deadline for explanation ran out. But considering the hellish day she'd endured, it had slipped her mind that he would actually be here. As tired and despondent as she was, he was the last person she wanted to see right now.

Amy jerked open the door. "What?"

He arched back in alarm, but whether that was from her abruptly opening the door or from her less-than-friendly tone, she didn't know. They stood there staring at each other. _Damn it_, she thought, taking in his tan slacks and the light brown windbreaker covering his lanky frame. _Why does he have to be so handsome?_ It would be a lot easier to stay grounded in her ire if she didn't have to battle an ever-growing attraction on top of it.

One dark eyebrow curved upward as he regarded her. "Amy, I've been standing here for three minutes now. When you have a guest at your door, it is customary to welcome them into your home." He waited a full minute for her to respond. When she didn't, he added, "Well? Are you going to invite me inside?"

"Depends," she said with a shrug. "Are you here to provide an explanation for your actions of yesterday or to deliver a lecture on polite behavior?"

His stiff, these-are-the-rules-according-to-the-mighty-Sheldo n-Cooper attitude merely reminded her of the last time she'd been with him. _He thinks he's just going to push his way through this by telling me what to do? He should think again. Hell hath no fury like a pissed off neurobiologist._

Straightening to every inch of his impressive height, he said, "I am here—as promised—to explain my actions."

Amy stepped aside. "Then come in."

Once he was inside, she shut the door and walked over to the couch to reclaim her seat. She slouched simply because she knew it would annoy him. From the frown on his face, she had succeeded. After taking off his jacket, Sheldon sat in his customary spot, eyeing her warily. She eyed him back, enjoying his obvious discomfort. He pushed nervously at the black sleeves of his undershirt and fidgeted with the hem of his emerald, Green Lantern t-shirt which was stretched over his slender chest. It was evident how unpleasant this evening was for him.

_Good. Maybe now he's getting a taste of how I felt yesterday._ Amy didn't know where all this rage was coming from, but, once it started, there was no stopping it. It seemed merely seeing him had unleashed an uncontrollable fury within her that was dictating all actions. His eyes scuttled to the kitchen and back to her a few times.

"Are you going to offer me a beverage?" he asked.

She shook her head and waited.

His frown was back. "That's rude."

"So is telling all your coworkers about supposed sexcapades you're having with a girlfriend you barely touch." Amy crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the sofa. "Are you going to start explaining or am I going to have to put you on a timer again?"

His cheeks were flushed red as he looked down at his lap, but whether this was from embarrassment or anxiety, she didn't know. Fascinated, Amy watched his magnificent brain go to work, cataloguing the current tone she was using to speak to him and her body language and trying to calculate how to best adapt himself to this new, hostile environment. It was obvious he'd plotted out this evening very carefully and this was far from how he'd expected it to go. She could read the rising panic in his body movements, but he was fighting it off strenuously. His fists clenched tightly in his lap and, taking a deep breath, he raised his head to look at her once more. Unfortunately, his gaze snagged on something else instead.

"Do you know you have a rip in your tights?"

"Yes."

"Do you wish for me to wait for you to go change?"

"No."

"You can't be comfortable like that," he said, tilting over to examine the damage closely. "I can see your entire knee."

Something about him saying that was erotic, but Amy pushed all that feeling away and focused on the matter at hand. "Get started, Sheldon."

Clearing his throat, he said, "I will begin my explanation by reminding you that, had you abided by the established parameters of the relationship agreement, none of this would have happened."

"If you are talking about that ridiculous section on refraining from surprising each other, I would caution you to get on with your explanation as my patience is wearing thin. I am very near to throwing you out of here and terminating your beloved relationship agreement entirely," she retorted.

Blue eyes widened. He considered this briefly before nodding. "Very well. I would first like to explain the presence of Candace. As you know, my assistant Alex is out of town this week due to the death of her grandmother. As I am very busy—more so right now because of my impending deadline with Kripke on Friday—it is vital that I have someone at my beck and call to take care of trivial things I do not have time to complete. I tried to put a request in through Human Resources for temporary help. However, the timeframe they gave me for fulfilling the request was not acceptable. From time to time, students at the university have made themselves available to me in this capacity in exchange for being allowed to bask in the presence of brilliance like mine. Candace made an offer, and I saw no harm in accepting it until such time as Alex returns next week. That is all."

_That is all? Hardly._ "If that is all, why didn't you mention her in our daily correspondence?"

"Because it was an irrelevant detail."

"Sheldon," she said with an irritated sigh, "this week alone you have told me what you've consumed for lunch, the daily temperature in your office, and complained about how the orange shirt Kripke was wearing was not, in fact, orange, but coral in color."

"It was. I tried to get Kripke to see my point, but he refused—"

"_My point_," she interjected, "is that you share every other nuance of your day with me. Yet, you introduce a new person into your life and you choose not to share that with me. How is that supposed to make me feel?"

Sheldon snorted. "Make you _feel_? When did we become hippies interested in waxing poetic over every little emotion our hormones decide to impress upon us?"

"Then you are saying you don't care how I feel?"

His eyes darted around, wary again. Apparently, his senses were telling him he was entering dangerous territory here. "As your boyfriend, it is also my job to be aware of your overall happiness and well-being. It's in the relationship agreement, after all."

"'To be aware'? But not to actually _do_ anything about maintaining that happiness and well-being?"

"If your happiness and well-being are brought about by my including these types of less-than-relevant details of my life in our various communications, I can make efforts to do so in the future." He smiled widely at her, his eyes glazing over with an inorganic contentment.

"That's your koala face, Sheldon," she accused. "If you think that is going to get you out of this mess you have made, you're wrong. In the meantime, I will tell you that _I think_. I think the reason you didn't tell me about Candace is because you knew I would question why a woman like her is pressing her ample bosom against my boyfriend's back. I also would have pointed out to you that the girl is obviously enamored with you and would, therefore, do anything for you."

"But I have no such feelings for her," he blurted. "That should count for something. And, I have always forced her to maintain a clinical distance from me. You know how I dislike physical touch of any kind. You are my girlfriend; so you are allowed to touch me. With anyone else, however, this would be abhorrent. Therefore, as the girl has not touched me in a romantic manner and I have not touched her at all—nor do I have any wish or plans to do so in the future—I see no reason for you to be upset about this matter."

It was the wrong thing to say, but it was clear from the satisfied smirk currently widening across Sheldon's face that he didn't understand that.

"So, you think using this poor girl's affections to get what you want is all right as long as you don't touch her or return those affections?"

"Yes," he quickly agreed. However, as he apparently took note of the fury clouding her expression, he changed his mind. "No?"

"Do you not see how slimy an individual that makes you, Sheldon Cooper? How would you feel if someone was using your affection for someone to force you to do something you didn't want?"

"Slimy?" he repeated, resentment infusing his features. "You think I'm slimy?"

"Your actions certainly are."

"Yeah? Well, you do the same thing all the time," he accused, petulantly.

That stopped Amy cold. "Excuse me?"

"You use our attachment to each other to force me to physically touch you." He nodded to himself, seeming pleased with the point he was making. He also took advantage of her shocked silence. "I have made it plain from the beginning of our acquaintance that I did not wish to have a romantic relationship with anyone. Issues like the ones we are having tonight more than highlight my wisdom on that front. Yet, there you always are, pushing and pushing at me to do things I have no interest in doing. First, you make me ask you to be my girlfriend."

"Make you? I _made_ you do that?" she sputtered, so incensed she could barely breathe. _Is this how he really feels? How he's always felt?_

"Yes. So, I compromised and made you my girlfriend. Do you know how hard a concept that even was for me to imagine or how difficult it was to fit that role into my already busy life? I even labored intently to fashion a relationship agreement that would benefit both of us."

"Benefit _both_ of us?"

"Are you going to repeat what I said all night? If so, we're going to be here a very long time," he said, before jumping back into the argument. "Then, after I give you the honor of being my girlfriend, is that good enough for you? No. You have to keep pushing and pushing." His voice went up an octave as he mimicked her. "_Hold my hand, Sheldon. Hug me, Sheldon. Celebrate Valentine's Day with me, Sheldon. Be more intimate with me, Sheldon._ Does it matter to you how Herculean a task this is for me? How much Hell I have to go through just to _think_ about touching you? Do you even know? Does it stop you? No. You always want more, more, more. It's never enough."

Amy closed her eyes, feeling like she'd just been slapped. She focused on breathing. _Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Don't you dare cry. Crying will only make this worse. He doesn't get a single tear from you. _She finally opened her eyes again to find him staring at her. His hands were stretched out to her, almost as if he'd considered offering her comfort, but couldn't make himself do it.

"I _always_ force you?"

He nodded, but didn't speak. His hands dropped uselessly in his lap. Sheldon seemed to realize he'd crossed some line he couldn't come back from. His body stiffened as if he were waiting for her to attack him.

"First, I would remind you, Sheldon Cooper, that I never asked you to make me your girlfriend. I never even said the word 'girlfriend' to you. It was only after I began dating Stuart that you decided to pay attention to me in that arena. _You_ decided. On your own." He opened his mouth to reply, but the look she gave him dared him to speak. His mouth closed back with a snap.

"Second, the relationship agreement has never benefitted anyone but you. Its sole purpose is to keep me at arm's length and to regulate everything in our relationship according to your satisfaction, comfort, and happiness. So don't even try to say you wrote that thing for me."

When he tried to interrupt again, she arched a brow at him. "Did I give you the impression I was done?"

His jaw fell open in surprise.

"Third," she continued as though he'd done nothing, "I have always been more than aware of your handicaps in the area of physical affection—"

"Handicaps?" he yelped, offended.

"Handicaps," she reiterated. "I have always been aware and patient as I, myself, have, in the past, been the kind of person who has not enjoyed all the unnecessary touching that comes along with everyday life. However," She glared at him lest he think she was in any way agreeing with the load of monkey feces he'd been flinging her way, "I've also worked hard to help you overcome these handicaps in order to not only assure my felicity, but, more importantly, yours.

"Fourth, I have never forced you to do anything. Every touch we have ever shared has first been initiated by you. You took my hand first during Howard's launch into space. You—"

"Oh no, missy," he argued. "No you don't. You kissed me first. You were drunk at the time, but you still did it. Then, you did it again when I gave you the tiara."

"And you kissed me twice this summer while Leonard was away. Then, the night of Leonard's homecoming party you kissed me," she threw out, "with _tongue_." There was a slight pause where she watched his cheeks redden again. She could see in his expression that his eidetic memory was replaying it all for him right now. "You kissed me of your own free will that night, Sheldon Cooper. You kissed me long and hard and deep. It was the kind of kiss a boyfriend shares with a girlfriend, and it made me the happiest I have ever been in my life."

A tear fell down her cheek, but she didn't try to stop it. She was too far gone for that. She got up from the couch simply to put distance between them. "But, tonight, you have made me the saddest I have ever been. You come here, and you tell me all these hurtful things trying to cover up your own juvenile actions. You try to blame me for the issues in this relationship when they are clearly _your issues_. I've been patient with you, Sheldon. But no more. I'm done with it. It's time for you to grow a pair and realize what you want in this world."

"Grow a pair?"

She looked plainly at his crotch. "Grow a pair," she repeated until his eyes darted away, uncomfortably. "You either want to be in a real relationship with me or you don't. You're either a boy or a man. The time for riding the fence has come and gone."

He jumped up from the couch as though he were scalded. "I am a _man_, and this is a real relationship."

"No, it's not. Our friends think it's a joke, and I'm starting to agree."

His eyes glowed in blue fury. "You think this is a joke?"

Before she could answer, he stormed over to her, pulled her into his arms and laid the mother of all kisses on her. Amy protested at first, but he was too far gone to pay attention. He just kept kissing her. Then, when he turned his head slightly and opened his mouth to manipulate her lips with his own, she couldn't help but respond. With a low moan echoing from the back of her throat, she gave herself over to the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Sheldon's arms locked around her waist, jerking her close. His lips pressed and retreated, pressed and retreated again and again until she was dizzy with delight. Her mouth opened under his, taking in the heady taste of his mint toothpaste as his tongue lightly traced the corners of her mouth before diving back in for another swooping kiss.

Then, just as quickly as it started, he broke away from her. He unlaced her hands from around his neck and took steps back to put distance between them. This kiss they had just shared was different from all the others they had traded in the past. This one was ferocity, passion, and possession—everything she'd ever wanted. It was the night of Leonard's party all over again times infinity. This was the man she wanted. This was the man he'd been so close to being over the summer, the one who had retreated from her after the night of the party.

_And, boy, is he back with a vengeance._

Amy's lips throbbed in tempo with her heartbeat, but she barely registered it. She was too busy gaping at this creature across from her. His eyes were dilated, his breathing was haggard, and his face was flushed. But it was the determined expression hardening his features that really sucked her in.

"Well," he asked, running his gaze over her like a beast marking his territory. "Who's laughing now?"


	5. System Malfunction

**Chapter Five: System Malfunction**

Sheldon had a system. He lived by rules, plans, and schedules. It wasn't just a personality quirk, it was a way of life. Whether it be eating, medical appointments, hygiene, physics, or bowel movements, he'd spent the last some odd thirty years of his life planning every action out carefully before moving forward. If one sticks to the plan, one will not fail. It was a motto he had stuck to for a long, long time.

Until tonight, that is.

_What was that? What did I just do?_

One minute he was debating Amy's ridiculous notions and the next he was kissing her like a maniac. Something else inside of him had been in control. It was strange. He'd never felt that … overcome … before.

A slight buzzing noise sounded in his mind. _False. You've felt this before. The night of Leonard's homecoming party. You felt overcome then, too._

_That night. Oh, that night._ He'd meant to kiss her then, of course. It was all a part of his strategy to introduce more intimacy into their relationship, which was something Amy clearly wanted and something he found his didn't dislike as much as he'd presumed. The first kiss he'd initiated had been quite pleasant, a mere pressing of his lips against hers for a predetermined amount of time. They'd both been so nervous that he wasn't sure he would be able accomplish it, but he had. Finally, when he'd pulled away, Amy had looked so happy and he'd been so greatly relieved to have completed his appointed task successfully.

After she'd gone, he'd researched everything he could on kissing so that they next time would be even better. He'd even watched several Youtube videos on the subject so he could get the positioning of his mouth and head correct. The second time he'd kissed her, it had been more pleasant than the first. The research had more than paid off. He'd moved his lips over hers, pressing a series light kisses against her mouth instead of one prolonged compressed kiss. She had seemed to enjoy it more and had mimicked his movement back to him. When they pulled back this time, they were both smiling.

Sheldon remembered how he'd felt afterwards, that if all intimacy between them could be like that, being physical with Amy wouldn't be so bad. He might even find that he enjoyed it.

Then, like an albatross over the neck of a cursed sailor, there was the night of Leonard's party. Sheldon still wasn't sure what had happened, what had changed. They had been having a good time—or as good as one could have when surrounded by blaring music, inebriated partygoers, and the revolting sight of a communal potato chip bowl. He and Amy had shared a stimulating discussion on the correctness of noted astronomer Carl Sagan's assertion that demonstrations of scientific principles are profoundly alive and well in civilization as well as nature. When she had asked him to walk her to his car, he'd agreed even though he was tired and it was well past his established bedtime. If Amy felt she needed his protection in this capacity, he was honor-bound as her boyfriend to give it to her. It would also give him the perfect opportunity to practice kissing her again with a modicum of privacy.

They continued their discussion all the way down the stairs. Coming out of the building, they found a full moon shining so brightly that they had stopped to admire it before lapsing into a conversation on the four kinds of lunar months. Then, before he knew it, they were at her car, she was leaning against her passenger door, and he was gazing down at her. The moon had bathed her face in an iridescent pallor that he'd found utterly breathtaking. Like a tractor beam locking on a shuttlecraft, his eyes had been drawn to her lips. They'd looked full and lush and beckoning. He didn't just want to kiss her anymore. He needed to kiss her. His eyes met hers, seeking permission. The echoing yearning in her expression was all the consent he required. Then, without another thought, he'd leaned down and kissed her. But there was something about this that was so different than the others. Maybe it was the strange ferocity that had overcome him, the impassioned need to make her his. Maybe it was her reaction, how she accepted his alien fervor and gave it back to him tenfold. Maybe it was how good she felt in his arms or how she clung to him. Her tongue lightly lapping at his mouth had taken him by surprise at first. However, instead of being repulsed, he'd found he liked it. In fact, he liked it so much, his own tongue came out to explore as well. The next thing he knew, his tongue was tangoing with hers in her mouth, his hands were lost in her hair, and her arms were clutching at his back. He was lost in a sea of sensation and pleasure, unable to hold a thought and not at all concerned about that.

When he'd pulled back from her this time, neither of them grinned. Amy had seemed too overwhelmed, and Sheldon had been too disturbed. He'd lost control. Complete control. Chaos. That's what it was. He couldn't think and he hadn't cared. _Really?_ He wasn't sure what had compelled him to act that way, and he didn't like the concept that such a simple act could drive him to the brink of delirium. He hadn't said anything to her as he helped her get in the car. But, as he'd watched her drive away that night, he was more than aware that he was going to have to get himself back under control before he could see her again. This … chaos … could not be allowed to continue. He was a person, not an animal. The chaos could not win.

Sheldon knew he had to maintain a safe distance from Amy, to regulate his communications with her to the most banal of chit chat until he could root out the source of this … yearning. He'd doubled his Kohlinar treatments as a final banishment on any residual feelings from that night. Before coming here, he'd been fairly confident his plans had been successful. He'd been wrong. Then again, where Amy was concerned, he was more often wrong than right.

Resentment at this swirled inside. All that work he'd done, all the sacrifice, for nothing. The power she had over him; it both awed and angered Sheldon. Most of the time, he both adored and scorned this brunette nymph he claimed as his girlfriend. Everything was so jumbled in his mind. He hated it. He needed order. Without order, there was chaos.

He catalogued everything around him, trying to return to his normal, composed state. One sofa. One desk. One table. Four chairs. Two shelves. Fifty-eight books. Fifteen pens. Three blue. Two red. One purple. Nine black. _Why does Amy have a purple pen?_ Was this another bit of wildness that sometimes flared within her, a wildness he was inexplicably drawn to more than he would ever admit to anyone? A wildness he felt that echoed within him, begging to be released? He blinked. _Irrelevant. This is all irrelevant. Focus._ One pea green shirt. Eight white buttons. One pink undershirt. One brown skirt. Two black shoes. One pair of yellow tights. One rip in the knee. _Her knee. It was lovely. Creamy, white skin stretched over a perfectly-formed joint, so pallid in the overhead light. So odd. It's just a knee. Why must it affect me so?_

"Sheldon?"

His eyes darted up to meet hers. She was staring at him expectantly. Worse, the disorientation she'd obviously been under had cleared. _Darn it all to heck. All this time wasted. This night is going nowhere near according to plan. I regained control for what? To lose it again because I was woolgathering about my girlfriend? Is this a symptom a stroke? This must a stroke or a brain tumor. That is the only explanation._

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"Y-y-yes. I am well," he replied. _Unless I have a brain tumor, which, given my behavior, is certainly possible. _"Perhaps, we can continue our discussion tomorrow during our scheduled date night." Sheldon knew he'd promised her a full explanation, but he didn't trust himself around her right now. Surely, after his actions, she would have to agree with his logic on the matter.

"No."

_What? Did she just say—_ "No? What do you mean?"

Crossing her arms over her chest, Amy said, "I believe the word 'no' is self-explanatory, Sheldon. In case it is not, I will elaborate. You promised me a full explanation. You have expounded on Candace, but you have yet to do so with Kripke."

"Then you accept my explanation for Candace?" he said, relaxing slightly as a blissful relief he wasn't expecting washed over him. Half the battle was fought and won, then. _I told Leonard this would not be a problem. I can't wait to see his face when I tell him this._

"I accept merely that you have explained your actions concerning Candace. However, I assure you, I still find your behavior in this matter reprehensible."

All bliss fell away. "Reprehensible?"

She smirked. "Are you going to repeat what I said all night? If so, we're going to be here a very long time."

A compulsion within him started at that. It was a raw, animal hunger that he didn't understand. Something about having this vixen outwit him by repeating his own words back to him made him want to kiss her again. _What is happening to me?_ _I have to get out of here. The chaos …This isn't safe. I'm not safe. I need to calm down. Then, once reason has returned, I can think of a way out of this. I'm a genius. Amy is a genius, too. But she's not as smart as I am. No one is as smart as I am._

"I require tea. Chamomile. As I am a guest in your home, you are obliged to offer me a beverage. I demand my due, woman," he said, surprised at the vehemence in his tone. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

Amy cocked an eyebrow at him—something he found both stimulating and annoying at the same time. _Oh God, I'm falling apart here. Does she not see that?_

"Stop trying to stall and begin explaining, Sheldon."

"The beverage, I beg you," he gritted out between clenched teeth. Sheldon Cooper, as a rule, did not beg. Surely she must know this. If Howard could see him now, Sheldon knew he would never hear the end of it.

_I just wish I could be there to watch the mighty Sheldor brought to his knees by a lowly neurobiologist._

Sheldon closed his eyes and breathed in and out. _I am in control. Not my endocrine system, not emotion, not chaos, and certainly not some hardheaded neurobiologist from Glendale._

Clearly she recognized how close he was to losing control again as she said, "I will make you some tea. Calm yourself and sit down, Sheldon."

Hearing those words had him opening his eyes again to find her already walking to the kitchen. He sat, turning so his gaze could follow her as she walked about, preparing his heated beverage. _The calm is coming. Rationality will return._

Amy's actions were so fluid and systematic in nature he couldn't stop watching her. It was something about her that had always captivated him. She was a very efficient person, even with her movements. When she pulled down the tea bags from cabinet, she also brought down a cup along with the honey. When she reached to turn on the kettle with her left hand, the fingers of her right were already clutching his teabag. His tea was ready in minutes and, as the tea steeped in his cup, her hands worked with the precision of a surgeon to clean up the slight mess she had made and to wipe down the counter. Adding a generous dollop of honey, she drained the wet teabag threw it away with one hand while the other stirred the cup exactly three times counterclockwise. Finally, after washing her hands, she returned to the living room to present the finished cup to him.

The beauty of her actions was like a choreographed dance, one he would have cheerfully watched all day. It amazed him how fascinating this creature holding out a yellow coffee mug to him was, but she was. She had been from their first meeting. He took the cup, bringing it to his mouth to take a grateful sip.

Perfect. She'd made him a perfect cup of tea. Perfectly steeped, perfectly temperate, perfectly sweetened. Perfect. The chamomile went right to work on his system, and the chaos from before began to fade. He licked his lip, tasting honey and Amy there. Sheldon wasn't sure which was sweeter and, in this moment, he knew better than to allow himself to journey down that particular path. _Stay rational. Say what you need to say and get out of here before you do something else reckless. _

After taking another generous sip, he placed the mug on a coaster on her coffee table. Amy had reclaimed her position on the other end of the sofa and, with hands covering her knees, was sitting there waiting for him to begin.

"Thank you for the tea," he said.

"You're welcome."

"Amy, the kiss, from before. I shouldn't have done that to you. I'm sorry."

Her brows scrunched together as her shoulders dropped. "You're sorry?"

"Yes," he hastened to say, wondering why she didn't look pleased at his apology. Most people were happy when he apologized because it happened so rarely and they derived some sense of satisfaction from seeing him so humbled. "I had no right to force myself on you like that."

Instead of seeming relieved by this gesture on his part, Amy seemed … angrier. Sheldon reached out to grab the cup again, taking another calming drag before getting to the matter at hand.

"In regards to what happened with Kripke, do you remember back to when he and I exchanged our initial findings on our project?"

She nodded.

"Well, the next morning, he came to see me. I had expected him to mock me as his report was decidedly better than mine. However, he seemed to believe that the reason for the lack of brilliance in my findings was because my mind and body were otherwise engaged … in coital acts … with you."

She said nothing, just kept watching him.

Sheldon gulped and continued on, tapping his finger against the side of his mug. "I felt that, for the best interest of my working relationship with Kripke, I would not correct his misconception, but use it to my advantage. As I have told you in the past, Kripke is only manageable if I maintain a certain superiority over him. Otherwise, we would not even be where we are in our joint project." He swallowed more tea and returned the cup to the coaster. "So you see, the whole affair really has nothing to do with you. I wish you had not overheard it, of course. But, in the end, it serves a greater purpose not only in my work and this project with Kripke, but in the realm of physics overall."

"I see," she said. "So you did it only because you had to … for the sake of physics?"

Relieved, Sheldon smiled and nodded. "Yes, exactly. I'm glad you understand."

"You soiled my reputation—not only as a neurobiologist, but as a female—for the sake of physics?"

_Danger! Danger! Danger!_ If the words she'd used didn't set off alarm bells, the elevation to her pitch as she reached the end of her question certainly would have.

"Your reputation isn't soiled. You're in a committed relationship with me. Most pair-bonded couples who have been together as long as we have engage in coitus quite often. Plus, the only male Kripke and the others believe you are having coitus with is me. Did I not make that clear? And, as for your work reputation, as far as I can see, this has nothing to do with that."

"_Others_? Who else knows?"

_Drat._ He'd been hoping to avoid that question. "I didn't tell anyone."

"Wrong," she immediately retorted, "You told Leonard and Penny. How many did Kripke tell?"

She knew he had talked to Leonard and Penny about this? _Oh boy. When would that Nebraskan waitress learn to keep her trap shut_? "He might have told a few others."

Amy closed her eyes, taking deep breaths. He wondered if she was using Kohlinar to calm herself. Maybe she had taken his advice about that after all. Sheldon smiled, proud of her. _Maybe I am rubbing off on her more than I thought. _However, when those eyes opened again, he was instantly aware of how wrong he was. He'd seen this look before. It was the same as when he'd told her they couldn't live together, but a million times worse.

"Get out, Sheldon."

"What?" _She couldn't really mean_—

"Get out!"

He jumped up from the couch the second she charged to her feet. He'd lived with enraged females long enough to know when they were this mad, assault and battery usually soon followed.

"Amy, I'm not sure why you are so angry, but—"

"You don't know why I'm angry?" she countered, backing him to the door. "Allow me to explain then. I just found out that my boyfriend, who I have always respected, does not, in fact, respect me."

_She thinks I don't respect her? How could she ever think I wouldn't respect her?_ "I respect you a great deal, Amy. How can you believe otherwise?"

"You allowed your colleague—a man you don't even like by the way—to believe intimate things about us and to share those intimate things with every person at Caltech."

"But the things he said aren't true. If things aren't true, then it doesn't matter," he argued. Surely she understood this.

Amy reacted as if he'd called her a bad name. Her body went rigid as she stared at him. "Get out. I don't want to talk to you anymore tonight. I can't even look at you right now."

"Amy, it's not that bad. Once I explain—"

"I have heard more than enough explanations from you tonight, Sheldon. Get out, or so help me God, I am going to lose what is left of my dignity and start pummeling you within an inch of your life." She reached over to get his jacket and tossed it at him. "Go!"

Sheldon scrambled to open the door, catching his jacket moments before she shoved him through the opening and slammed the door in his face. He stood in the hallway for a long time, staring at the door with only one hand thrust into the sleeve of his jacket. He wasn't sure how this had all gone so terribly wrong or what he could possibly do to fix it.

He didn't move again until he heard it. Weeping. Amy was crying. His powerful hearing could easily discern it, and it tore at him. Amy was sobbing. Sheldon rushed to the door, wanting to get back inside, to console her. But, even as he put his fist to the door to knock, he knew she wouldn't let him in again. So, Sheldon turned and, with his back to the door, slid to the ground and sat there, one thought blazed into his brain for all eternity.

_Dear Lord, what have I done?_


	6. Monkey Business

**Chapter Six: Monkey Business**

"You're the only man I know who goes to apologize to a woman and ends up in more trouble than you started with," Leonard said, shaking his head as he offered Sheldon a hot cup of apple cider with cinnamon sticks.

"First," Sheldon said, taking the mug, "I did not go over there to apologize. I have done nothing for which an apology is required. I merely went to offer logical explanations for what Amy witnessed and overheard, which I completed. Second, I am not, as you say, 'in trouble' with Amy. You act like she grounded me or something." He snorted and sipped the cider.

Leonard grimaced as he took a seat in the chair adjacent to the couch. "Yeah, it's the _something _you should be worried about."

Sheldon knew his roommate was alluding to a possible termination of the relationship. It had been looming over his head like a dark cloud the entire bus ride home. That and the faint echoes of Amy's sobs replaying in his ears. As surprising as it was to admit, the idea of her sorrow continuing for even a minute longer seemed worse than her breaking up with him.

He sighed, unable to adequately enjoy his beverage. "I made her cry, Leonard. I'm not sure how or why. I only know I did, and I'm now required to fix it. You, as my best friend and as the boyfriend of Amy's best friend, are required to help. I don't care what ridiculous, inane thing you tell me to do. I will do it. Whatever it takes so she won't cry anymore."

Leonard choked on his water. "The supreme Sheldon Cooper is coming to me for relationship advice?"

"You have experience with weeping women. I have seen Penny cry more than once over you. Yet, you are still pair-bonded with her—for the time being anyway. Thus, it seems you would be a logical resource for helping me to solve this particular quandary. I also refuse to bring Wolowitz into this. I'll never be that desperate."

"The first thing you should do is apologize."

"You know, when I said 'ridiculous,' I didn't mean insane."

"Come on, Sheldon. Man up and apologize. That's all she wants."

"Man up? What does that even mean? And apologize for what exactly? I've been over this with you several times. I did nothing wrong."

Leonard rolled his eyes. "Surely you're not this obtuse. I know you're pretty egocentric, but even you have got to see that telling everyone you work with the intimate goings-on with your girlfriend isn't the thing to do—even if those things aren't really going on. You owe Amy an apology for that if nothing else."

"Is it my fault Kripke came up with his own assumptions about my relationship and then decided to gossip about it to anyone who would listen?"

"It's your fault that he believes his assumptions are true. You should have corrected him when you had the chance. Then there would have been nothing for him to tell anyone."

Sheldon scoffed. "You know, as intelligent as you claim to be, you don't have an understanding of this situation at all."

"I understand your girlfriend threw you out and started crying and now you've come to me to help you fix it. I also understand that I'm trying to help you, but you aren't listening to me."

"So far, all you have said is that I must apologize. I reject that suggestion." He gave a majestic wave of his hand and lifted his mug to his mouth. "Present your next idea."

A frown crinkled over Leonard's brow. "How about making amends and buying her a gift? It worked before. It might work again."

Hefting a swallow of his beverage, Sheldon smiled. "Now, that's what I'm talking about. I'm sure Beverly will be pleased to hear the money she invested in your formal education was not wasted. What kind of gift?" He bit his lip. "Amy already has a tiara, and she just purchased a new sweater. It's navy blue with white trim. She told me about it over the weekend. What else could she possibly want? There was that humidifier Penny and I looked at last time I was in this situation. What do you think of that? Will it do?" He looked up to find Leonard with his head buried in his hands. "What?"

"Sheldon, listen to me. If you just shove some generic gift at her, it's not going to work. You're going to have to go old school on this. Humble yourself. Apologize, make amends, and beg her on bended knee to forgive you—even if you don't think you should have to do it." He thought for a moment. "Pour on the romance. Really go outside your comfort zone. Flowers, chocolates, and the whole romantic enchilada. But, above all else, _apologize_ to the woman."

Since Sheldon was tired of explaining how much he didn't need to apologize, he decided to focus on the more useful aspects of his friend's statement—as much as the idea of being romantic repelled him. For Amy, he would embrace this … romantic nonsense—especially it meant they could go back to the way they were and she wouldn't cry anymore. "Fine. What kind of flowers?"

—**TMR—**

It was pathetic indeed when one yearned for the days of having monkey feces thrown at one's head. But given the week Amy'd already endured, she did miss the time in her life when Ricky and his antics was the worst thing that was happening to her. Still, Sheldon hadn't tried to contact her today. He seemed to have finally realized how wrong he was. That, at least, was something positive.

She washed her hands after putting away the specimens she'd been working on. Once she was done, she went over to her desk at the back of the lab and booted up the computer. There were reports to be completed before the rest of the volunteers showed up tomorrow. As her two lab assistants were both out of the office today, there was no one to finish the paperwork but herself. The threat of tedious work didn't bother her though. After all, if she was busy writing reports, she would be too busy to dwell on her tumultuous relationship.

She remembered the look of despair on Sheldon's face when she'd thrown him out. _Maybe I finally got through to him._ Amy sighed, hoping she was right. _Tonight, _she thought._ We'll see each other tonight for our scheduled date night. We'll talk, he can apologize, and everything can go back to the way it was. Hopefully._

"Ames?"

She looked up, surprised to find Penny in her lab. Another person she wasn't talking to right now. That number seemed to be getting larger every day. Amy hated how lonely that made her feel. She'd been looking forward to today's planned lunch with Emily, of course, but her older sister had called earlier to postpone until tomorrow when Dooley would be in town. As Amy got along better with her brother-in-law than she did most of her family, she didn't mind so much. It was also the usual protocol where Emily was concerned. She'd always been the popular one. When she came to town, everyone from the neighbor down the street to the family dog demanded some of her time.

"What do you want, Penny?"

The blonde shrugged and fiddled with the strap of the frilly pink purse that exactly matched the heels she was wearing. "You haven't returned any of my calls or texts. I even sent an apology e-card. It had a dancing monkey in it. I thought for sure you would fall for the dancing monkey. Who can resist that?" she said, offering a small smile.

Amy bit back the urge to return the smile. "I didn't have anything to say, and I've been extremely busy." She tried to keep her voice neutral and aloof, but it was difficult. She was going through such inner turmoil over Sheldon that she didn't want to carry the burden alone. Besides, it was always hard to stay mad at the blonde goddess—even if she really deserved it.

"You know you can't stay mad at me," Penny said, as though she'd read her friend's mind.

"Your usual charm and vivaciousness won't work on me today, bestie."

"I'm taking that to mean I'm still your best friend, which is a good thing." Penny walked over, propping a hip against the desk as she looked Amy over. "Dear Lord, Amy. What's going on? You look like warmed-over death. Are you really this upset at me and Bernie? If so, I promise to do whatever you want to make up for it. I'm so sorry. We love you, and no one thinks your relationship with Sheldon is a joke. It's weird at times—but that's mostly because of him, not you."

Amy shook her head, feeling herself weakening. She'd missed her friends so much. _Stay strong. Don't look at her. Just don't look at her. _"Penny, you can't just come in here and—"

Penny interrupted, "I won't ever do anything like that again. Next time I find out Sheldon has done something I know you won't like, I'll stick up for you and punch Dr. Moon Pie right in the kisser. OK? I'm so sorry. You have to forgive me. I miss my bestie. Girls' Night isn't the same without you."

Amy shot a glance up at her friend in alarm. "You and Bernadette had Girls' Night without me?"

"Got you," Penny said with a wink. "Come on, Amy. Give in. I apologized, and I won't do it again. Bernie would have been here apologizing too, if she hadn't had to work. She sent you an apology email if you'd just open it. It doesn't have monkeys or anything, but she's not as cool as me so what do you expect?" She gave her most brilliant smile. "Besides, you have to forgive me so I can tell you all the latest gossip from the Cheesecake Factory." She paused for affect. "Jessica is pregnant!"

Residual anger and hurt feelings caved to curiosity. "The skanky waitress who was sleeping with Kyle the busboy and John the host at the same time?"

"Oh yeah, and guess what? The baby doesn't belong to either of them."

"What?" Amy shrieked. "Who's the father?"

"Tony, the line cook."

"No! Isn't he married?"

"Totally. With three kids. His wife freaked. She came in yesterday and made a scene worthy of a Broadway musical. It was awesome. Well, until the manager called the cops, fired Tony and Jessica, and gave the whole place a round of free drinks on the house. I've never had to run around so much in my life. I'm surprised I don't need crutches today or something."

Amy laughed so hard her sides hurt. "Amazing." She'd missed tales from the Cheesecake Factory. She'd missed laughing. She'd missed Penny and Bernadette. She'd missed … this.

Penny grinned and nudged her friend. "So does this mean I'm forgiven?"

"I suppose so," Amy admitted, unable to hold her haughty façade one moment longer. After all, it wasn't like Penny was buying it anyway.

"Amy Farrah Fowler?"

Both women looked up to see a man in a chubby, gray-haired man in a red delivery uniform standing by the door holding the largest bouquet of roses Amy had ever seen.

"Yes?" Amy asked, getting up to walk over. "That's me."

As she got closer, she could see a small stuffed monkey hanging on to a plastic stick inserted in the vase. Her heart dropped into her stomach. _No, he wouldn't. He couldn't._ _Surely he knows better._ Yet, even as she thought this, Amy knew instantly who the blooms were from and their purpose.

"These are for you," the delivery man said with a wide smile.

Ignoring the flowers, Amy snatched the small envelope from the vase and popped it open to read the card inside.

* * *

**To: Dr. Amy Farrah Fowler**

**Sincerely, **

**Sheldon L. Cooper **

**PhD, ScD, MS, MA**

* * *

Angry didn't begin to describe Amy's emotional state. Stunned, outraged, furious. But these feelings were just the tip of the emotional iceberg. _He thinks sending me flowers is going to solve anything? Flowers and a crummy note? Really, Sheldon? _

"Who are they from?" Penny asked, approaching from behind.

"Sheldon," she hissed, causing the smile on flower man's face to wilt.

"Moon Pie sent you roses? Wow," Penny said in a daze. "Never thought I'd see the day when that happened."

"Here you go, darlin'," the man said, trying to hand Amy the vase.

"I refuse to accept them."

He looked from Amy to Penny and back again, obviously confused. "But you have to accept them. They're already paid for."

"I don't care."

"They're our most expensive arrangement."

"Still don't care."

"But no woman has ever _not_ accepted them. We call it the 'Fix-it' bouquet because whatever your man has done, this bouquet can fix it. It's two dozen, long stemmed white roses with red tips along with pink tulips and white calla lilies. Plus, the heart-shaped vase is _real_ Waldorf crystal. Did you notice any of that? It's even got a little plush monkey on it. Isn't it cute, darlin'?"

Amy growled, ready to take the bouquet simply so she could pitch it at the man's head. He retreated a few steps, but still held the vase out towards her. "I don't care if each flower is dipped in gold, wrapped in a Nobel Prize, and the monkey is real. I still wouldn't accept it." With that, she turned away from him and began to feverishly pace the room. _What is Sheldon thinking? _There were plenty of times she'd wanted a normal boyfriend who would do normal boyfriend things. But this? It was going too far.

"Someone has to take it," the older man pleaded.

Penny shrugged and came up behind Amy. "Sweetie, are you OK? Do you want me to punch Sheldon? Because I will."

_How could Sheldon really think this was going to help?_ He should have left her alone to cool down and then come back so they could talk this out. Instead, he'd done this as though he thought they were just going to sweep it all under the rug and move on. _Hardly, Dr. Cooper._

"I think you better go, sir," Penny said to the delivery man. "Tell your boss she didn't want them."

_He thinks I'll fall for such an obvious ploy? Ha! I'll show him. I'll—"_Wait!" Amy called as the man was easing out the door. "I'll pay you fifty dollars if you'll deliver them somewhere else for me."

"I'm not supposed to do that. It's against the rules."

"A hundred," she offered.

He grinned. "Where do you want them to go, darlin'?"

She held up a finger. "First, don't call me darling. If you have to address me at all, call me Dr. Fowler. Second, I'll give you directions in a minute. Let me write a note to go with it."

—**TMR—**

All in all, Sheldon was pretty proud of himself. Not only had he found a reasonable way of mediating the issues between himself and his girlfriend—all without having to apologize—but he'd also managed to find the perfect arrangement of flowers for her and have them delivered all by himself. He was especially proud of the monkey he'd thought to have them include. Amy was always a sucker for monkeys. The whole thing had been ridiculously overpriced, of course. But one did what one had to in times of crises.

"You wanted to see me, Dr. Cooper?"

Sheldon looked up at Candace standing over by the door. "Yes, please come in. I need to speak with you about something." He wasn't looking forward to this part. But Leonard had said make amends and he was going to do just that. That way, when he saw Amy tonight for their scheduled date night, she would not only be pleased by his flowers and the other surprises he had in store, but the news he had to deliver as well. _Surprises from me? _He gave a rueful shake of his head. _Who would have ever thought? Oh, the things I do for that woman._

Candace had just taken a seat when there was another knock on the door.

"Come!" he called, thinking it was Kripke, ready to get started on their work. If so, he was an hour early, something Sheldon was going to delight in bringing up to his colleague right before he threw him out. However, the person who opened the door wasn't Kripke. It was a man in a uniform with the words "Chloe's Flower's and Gifts" embroidered across his chest was standing in the threshold of his office. Sheldon's eyes zeroed in on the nametag across his chest. _Joe._

"Yes?" Strange. _That's the same place where I ordered Amy's flowers. Surely they didn't get the wrong address by mistake._ Yet, the longer he looked at the man, the more that became the only plausible answer. After all, the large bouquet Joe was holding clearly had a monkey in it.

"I have a delivery for a Dr. Sheldon Cooper. You him?"

"I am he," Sheldon automatically corrected. "However, I'm the purchaser the flowers, not the one to receive them. Evidently, the woman taking orders in your shop has erred. That arrangement should have gone to the UCLA neurobiology lab for—"

"Dr. Fowler. Yeah, I met her. Sweet catch you're trying to reel in there, buddy," Joe quipped with a roll of his eyes. "She paid me to deliver them to you along with this note." He set the heart-shaped vase on Sheldon's desk and tossed a long, white envelope at him.

"But wait," Sheldon called. But Joe refused to stop and shut the door behind him. "Very odd. I'm going to send a very strongly-worded email to his manager about this. Just see if I don't."

"These flowers are really beautiful," Candace said, running her finger over the diamond-cut crystal pattern with a sigh. "Dr. Fowler certainly is a lucky woman to have you for a boyfriend."

"Indeed, she is," Sheldon replied, picking up the note. Surely this would apprise him of what was happening here. Was it too much to hope that Amy was trying to apologize to him by sending the flowers back? Maybe she had been too overcome by her irrational anger last night and felt sorry for treating him as she had. Maybe she didn't think she deserved the flowers. It certainly made logical sense to him.

Slicing into the envelope with his limited edition _Flash_ letter opener, he pulled the note out and scanned the single sheet of white paper. Then, he read it again because it simply didn't make sense.

* * *

**To: Dr. Sheldon Lee Cooper:**

**While social convention dictates that I thank you for sending me this ridiculously overpriced, "Fix-it" bouquet, I find I must return it because**

**Sincerely,**

**Amy Farrah Fowler**

**PhD, MS**

* * *

He flipped over the note, only to find it blank. Then, he rifled through the envelope for the obviously missing page. "Because why?" he yelled, when no other could be found.

"Dr. Cooper?" Candace asked hurrying over to him. "Is everything all right? Did she not like your gift?"

"I don't know."

"What did the note say?"

Sheldon handed it to her, unable to do anything else. … _I must return it because … because why?_ The need to know was nagging incessantly at him. Had she been writing so fast she hadn't realized she hadn't finished her sentence? _What other reason could there be? What kind of person goes to all of the trouble to write a note and have it delivered and then just doesn't finish it?_

"Maybe she doesn't like flowers," Candace offered. "Some girls don't you know."

"Really?" Sheldon asked, remembering Raj and Howard's assertion that it would take a large diamond engagement ring for him to get out of this mess. He shuddered at the mere thought. _I'm not ready for marriage—even to Amy._ "You don't think she wants an engagement ring, do you?"

"No, of course not. You can't just give her an engagement ring because she's mad at you. You should get her something else, something smaller and more intimate."

"Earrings?" Sheldon asked, feeling reason starting to return. Although, not knowing the end of Amy's note was still bothering the bejesus at him.

Candace frowned at him. "That's not exactly what I meant. If I was your girlfriend, I wouldn't make you spend any money at all. In fact, that's the real way to get a woman. But most men don't know that. They think they have to go overboard."

"Really? Well, get on with explaining what you meant. I've got work to get done today, and I haven't got a lot of time for dilly-dallying on this."


	7. Princess Sheldon

**Chapter Seven: Princess Sheldon**

There was mad. There was angry. There was even furious. Then, there was Amy Farrah Fowler. And, honestly, she wasn't sure what she was anymore. All she knew was that, if she was home, she'd have been burning up the harp strings with Adele about now.

"Amy?"

She jerked, suddenly aware she wasn't alone in her lab like usual. _How long have I been standing here? _In a flash, she saw her interactions with the delivery man again, this time from Penny's point of view. _More fodder for the hilarious joke that is the Shamy_, she thought with a grimace. Pivoting around, she swiftly marched back to her desk. "You should go now, Penny."

"You've been quiet a long time. Wanna talk about it?"

She did, more than anything, but she knew talking about it would only make it worse. _Why can't I have a normal boyfriend?_ But, then again, to have a normal boyfriend would mean she was a normal person with a normal life. _Never going to happen._ She'd made her peace with that early on in life. There were even times when she relished her uniqueness. But on days like today, it was difficult to remember why.

"Want me to go all junior rodeo on him?"

A giggle slipped out. She couldn't help it. The mere mental image of Sheldon being hogtied like a stubborn calf was funny. "No," she said, "it would only push him over the edge, and the note I sent him is already going to accomplish that far better than anything you can do to him."

"Yeah, speaking of which. What did you write in that note?"

"That's between Sheldon and me."

"All righty then. Do you want to go to lunch? My treat. Anywhere you want to go."

"I'm too upset to eat right now."

Penny sighed, obviously frustrated. "Look, you're my best friend. I want to be there for you, sweetie, but you're making it difficult."

Amy's jaw fell open. "I'm _your_ best friend?"

Penny looked at her like she'd lost her mind. "Of course. Did you think one argument was going to change that?"

_Does she really not understand?_ "No, what I mean is that I call you my bestie all the time, but I'm fairly confident that's the first time you've ever reciprocated."

"Recipro-what?"

Amy rolled her eyes at her friend's less-than-stellar vocabulary. At times like this, it was annoyingly adorable. "It's the first time you've called me your best friend," she said, looking up and hating how much Penny's reply would mean to her. There were so many relationships in her life where she was the person who loved more. It happened so often, it had become second nature. It would be a welcome relief to finally see some of that emotional investment returned. _But is it too much to hope for?_ Lord knew she'd be disappointed enough before.

"Amy," the blonde said, shoving a few piles of files and folders aside so she could heft herself up on the desk, "I've always found it easy to make friends. Growing up, if someone had asked if I had best friends, I'd have told them I had more than I could count on one hand. But I was wrong. Those people, they weren't my best friends. In fact, they weren't even what I would now consider friends. They were users. Any one of them would have stabbed me in the back without a second thought to get what they wanted. It wasn't until I met Leonard, Sheldon, and the guys that I understood what true friendship was. And, it wasn't until I met Bernadette and most especially you, that I understood and appreciated what best friends are." Her smile was watery and lopsided. "So, yeah, sweetie. You're my best friend."

It was too much. Amy couldn't handle it. She jumped up, throwing her arms around her bestie. "Thank you," she said hoarsely as tears poured down her cheeks. "Thank you for saying that." _Finally_, she kept thinking over and over. _Finally._

Hands awkwardly patted at her back. "You're welcome. Thanks for being my friend—even when I sometimes act like a bitch."

"You're welcome." Amy pulled back, jerking open a nearby drawer in search of Kleenex, which she divvied out to Penny and herself. "My apologies," she said, mopping at her face. "I don't usually allow myself to wallow in emotion like that."

Penny shrugged, dabbing at her own face. "We're women. We're supposed to weep every once and a while. That's why God gave us chocolate and boxed wine."

"And harps," Amy added.

"Uh, yeah … and harps," Penny hastily agreed. "How's my makeup?"

Amy checked. "Perfect. As usual."

"Good," she said, putting the wadded up tissue in her purse.

"Do you still want to go to lunch?" Amy asked. "Because I'd like that now."

"Sure, but, before we go, I want to clear something up. What you said that night. You know, that we only think of your relationship with Sheldon as entertainment? It's not true."

"How can you not think that?" Amy asked. "Our relationship is hardly what anyone would consider conventional."

Penny held out a manicured hand to stop Amy's protests. "Just hear me out. I wish I could explain how Sheldon was before he met you, because you can't really understand unless you saw it for yourself. He was so computerized, cut off, alone and totally unaware of how sad that was to see. There was a reason we called him Shelbot, and it wasn't because we were complimenting him. Then, he met you and something magical happened."

"Magical?"

"Yeah, magical. Even from the beginning, he got strangest look on his face whenever you texted or Skyped him. It took me the longest time to figure out what it meant because I'd never seen it on him before."

"What was it?" Amy asked.

"It was joy. Pure joy. You've been so good for him, and I think he's been equally good for you. It was like you were both closed up flowers and being around each other helped you to bloom, you know?" Penny said. "Even Raj said it was like kismet when you two met. You scared the crap out of Howard."

"Really? Why?"

Penny shrugged. "I have no idea. That's just what Raj always says. My point is that it's hard to be a spectator to all of that and not get emotionally involved. That's why we call you 'Shamy'. It's not meant to be a joke. It's meant to show how much we support you guys being together, how much we want you to go the distance as a couple. I know it doesn't always come off like that, but it's true. This isn't an ordinary relationship you've got here. It's special, almost like a fairy tale."

"A fairy tale?" Amy scoffed. "Sheldon and I are the furthest thing from fairy tale one can get. I'm hardly the beautiful princess and he's certainly not the dashing knight on a white horse come to rescue me. The one time I dressed up as Snow White, I fell asleep on the couch waiting on him to kiss me. When I finally woke up, he'd covered me with an afghan and went to bed."

Her friend smiled and shook her head. "What if you're looking at it all wrong? What if _he's_ the princess, and _you're_ the dashing knight come to rescue him from his drab life?"

Penny was insane. That was the only way any of this made sense. "How much of the boxed wine did you drink before you came here?" Amy said.

"None," Penny clipped. "Just hear me out."

"Fine," Amy said. _Yep, she's nuts._

Penny frowned. "Where was I?"

"Sheldon's apparently a princess and I'm a knight in shining armor come to rescue him."

"Right. It's like this story my dad used to tell me about a princess whose father died. He knew she'd have to marry one day, and he wanted to protect her from greedy jerks; so he left behind three boxes. One gold, one silver, and the third made of lead. In one of these boxes, he placed a picture of the princess, but nobody knew which one for sure.

"Then, he wrote notes on each box. On the gold one, he wrote, 'Whoever picks me will get what men really want.' On the silver one, he wrote, 'Whoever picks me will get exactly what he deserves." On the third box, he wrote, 'Whoever picks me must give all he has.' So, any man who came forward wanting to marry the princess had to choose a box. Only the one who picked the box with the picture in it could prove his right to marry her."

Amy nodded. "I know this story. It's Shakespeare. 'The Merchant of Venice.' And the woman wasn't a princess. She was a wealthy heiress named Portia. The first man came forward and chose the gold box, which housed an ugly skull and a note that said 'All that shines is not gold. Goodbye!' A second man chose the silver box, but it only held a fool's head and a note that said 'Many fools are hidden behind a silver covering. So be gone, sir!' Finally, a third man, Bassanio, who truly loved Portia, came forward and chose the lead box, which, of course, was the right one."

"Exactly," Penny said with a grin. "And they lived happily ever after."

"Actually, there's more to the story than that."

"Really? Huh. I might have to read that one then," Penny said. "Still, they did eventually live happily ever after, right?"

"Correct. But what does any of this have to do with me and Sheldon?"

"You're not the first woman to express romantic interest in Sheldon Cooper, you know. Raj told me about this party he and Sheldon had one night when Leonard was out. Well, when Sheldon's bedtime came, he went to sleep. Some girl there apparently had a crush on him. So, she knocked on his door and tried to get into bed with him."

Her jaw dropped. "Oh my God. No one ever told me that. What did Sheldon do?"  
Penny laughed. "The girl gave him some phony line about how tired she was, and he told her she could sleep in his room. Then, he left her there and went to sleep in Leonard's room."

Amy laughed. She could see it all in her mind clearly. She also couldn't help but be impressed by Sheldon's gentlemanly behavior—especially considering how he generally didn't approve of anyone being in his room.

Penny continued, "So, this girl is like the first man who came after the princess. She went after Sheldon simply because she thought he was handsome and wanted to hook up. She didn't really know him, much less care a thing about him. So, she was denied."

Amy settled back into her chair, not sure where this story was going, but liking it nevertheless. "OK. Then, what?"

"Well, I told you all about that crazy stalker chick Ramona, didn't I?"

"Yes."

"Believe me, Sheldon wasn't at all interested in her romantically, but he let her stay around him because she catered to his every whim and she seemed interested in the sciency stuff he was doing. But, in the end, she was just like the second man who picked the silver box. Ramona was a fool because she never bothered to see Sheldon beyond the sciency stuff. She was just trying to ride his coattails long enough to get some recognition herself. So, she was denied as well."

"Am I supposed to be Bassanio in this scheme of yours?" Amy asked with a smile.

"Who?"

"The third man who actually picks the right box?"

Penny nodded. "Oh yeah. You're not with Sheldon simply because you think he's hot and you're not with him just 'cause he can do physics. You actually got to know him and like him for who he is. If that isn't you picking the right box, I don't know what is. And, from the looks of that big vase of roses he sent, I would say he wasn't denying you."

"No, he's trying to get me to sweep everything under the rug."

"Yeah and I'm pretty sure the note you sent him back more than made clear how much it didn't work. But, it's your date night tonight, isn't it? Has he sent you a text telling you it's canceled?"

Amy checked her phone just to be sure. "No."

Penny bounced up and down and clapped her hands. "Good. That means he's still coming."

"We're probably going to fight again. He stubbornly refuses to apologize or see that he did anything wrong. And since I refuse to just let this go, there's nothing else for us to do. Honestly, it's the first date night I haven't been happily anticipating."

"Yeah, but let me tell you something. If there is one thing I know about Sheldon, it is that he absolutely hates fighting. He'll avoid it at all costs—even if he's not the one fighting. If there's a chance at all there's going to be an argument between you two and he still comes tonight, I'd say that is a testament to how much he cares about you and your relationship."

"Maybe," Amy said, finding her once-heavy heart lightening.

"My point to all this yammering is that you guys are living this fairy tale and—as your friends—the rest of us get to have a front row seat to watch a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love story unfold. It's not about entertainment, my friend. It's about the love." She gave a dramatic sigh and slapped a playful hand against her forehead.

Amy rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop smiling nonetheless. Penny had a strange way of making a point, but that didn't mean she hadn't actually made the point. It also made Amy see her relationship with Sheldon in a whole new light. Was it like a fairy tale? _Hardly._ A once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing? _Maybe._ She considered it deeper, remembering all the things about Sheldon that she liked, all the little quirks and personality traits that drove everyone else batty. He wasn't robotic, anal-retentive, unemotional, or too staid in his ways as people often thought. Most of the time, his actions seemed quite logical and utterly endearing to her. He preferred to live a life of rules, order, and rationality—something she could completely embrace.

Besides, who was she to judge when it came to personality quirks? She had more than enough of her own. Quirks Sheldon never seemed bothered by, now that she considered it. A once-in-a-lifetime relationship? _Yeah._ She guessed that was exactly what one would call it.

But there were some things even that couldn't erase.

Amy looked back up at her friend. "So you're saying I should just ignore the fact that he's trashed my reputation because I'm Bassanio and he's Portia and our relationship is the stuff of fairy tales?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying at all. What he did wasn't cool. Make him pay for it. In fact," Penny said, "I gotta say, for a woman who can't withhold sex from her boyfriend, you're still doing quite well at making him your bitch. Good job."

"Thanks," Amy replied, feeling strangely happy and proud of herself.

"Make Sheldon apologize. I'm just saying, after all this is over, remember that what you guys have is special. Don't worry about how other people see it or if you're not going by someone else's idea of a relationship. The once-in-a-lifetime love stories usually end up blazing all new trails anyway. Look at Lancelot and Guinevere and Romeo and Juliet or Jack and Rose from _Titanic_."

Amy frowned. "You realize, of course, that all of those love stories ended tragically?"

Penny pondered this a minute before waving away her concerns. "You still got my point and that's all that matters. Now, how about some lunch?"

"Deal. Let me get my purse."

Penny was right. She and Sheldon were special and, as soon as they got over this little hurdle in their relationship and he apologized, everything would be just fine. Amy could feel it.

"Yep," she told herself as she hung up her labcoat and reached for her purse, "everything will be just fine."

Of course, "fine" was the last word she would have used when she returned to her lab an hour later to find a small, wrapped parcel sitting on her desk. She didn't need to read the gift tag to know who it was from. The blazing red wrap topped off with a bright gold bow more than gave that away.


	8. Pride And Prejudice

**Chapter Eight: Pride And Prejudice**

It was a rarity indeed when Sheldon could surprise himself with his own brilliance. Today was certainly one of those days. He'd been faced with a seemingly intractable obstacle. Yet, armed only with his superior intellect, he'd managed to traverse that obstacle successfully.

"What's with the smirk?"

He glanced to the driver's seat of the car he was in, where Leonard was navigating his way out of the Caltech parking lot. I should tell him. Then, he'll have no choice but to acknowledge his error as well as my cleverness in the matter. "I'm smiling because, after I took your preposterous advice in dealing with Amy and it failed, I was able to come up with a solution all on my own which effectively resolved the problem."

Leonard turned to look at him as he eased to a stop at the first red light. "You took my advice? Does that mean you apologized?"

Sheldon rolled his eyes. "One must first err in order for an act of contrition to be warranted. As I did nothing wrong, I would logically not be in a position of having to deliver an apology. Why must I keep repeating this to you?" He gave a beleaguered sigh so Leonard would understand the depth of his annoyance. "What I meant was that I took your advice and sent Amy flowers. Of course, this 'romantic' gesture was quickly rebuffed."

"Rebuffed?" Leonard echoed. "What did she do?"

"She had them delivered back to me."

Leonard snorted.

Sheldon bristled. "I don't appreciate your laughing when it's your fault in the first place. Why did I even listen to you? I should have known better. After all, Amy, as a rational being like me, was offended by the mere idea of someone sending her flowers when this act is reserved only for funerals, the birth of a child, Mother's Day, or in the event of an illness which requires hospitalization."

It had taken him several long, hard minutes of serious reflection to deduce this. It was the only answer that made sense as it was evident Amy was displeased by his offering. He also had a theory that her message had been left fragmentary on purpose in order to rouse his ire as she knew well how important closure was to him. Yet, as he had no definite proof of this, it remained a theory at this point.

"Let me get this straight," Leonard said, continuing with his infernal snickering. "You sent flowers to Amy trying to fix things between you, and she got mad and sent them back?" He shook his head. "I told you that wasn't going to work without an apology. So, how was I wrong?"

"How were you wrong?" Sheldon repeated. "Really, Leonard? Now who's being obtuse?" He looked out the window just in time to catch his favorite sight on the ride to and from work: The Little Engine That Could Train Emporium. The whirly, gilt lettering as well as the merry red train with the billowing puff of steam on the sign never failed to cheer him whenever he saw it. Once he was done looking his fill, he returned to the conversation at hand. "Thanks to some quickness and ingenuity on my part, I was able to correct your blunder and now everything is back to normal between Amy and me."

"Let me guess. You wrote her a poem confessing your undying love and promising to be her snuggle bunny for all eternity?"

He glared at his roommate, fairly confident his comment was sarcasm. Either that or Leonard had clearly imbibed in an alcoholic beverage while working in his lab. As he had no wish to be another statistic in the realm of alcohol-related traffic fatalities, Sheldon decided to make sure. "Sarcasm?"

"Oh, yeah. Big time."

Sheldon smiled, proud of himself. He was really on the ball today. "Excellent. I'm twenty-three for forty-one this month. An all-time record."

"Sheldon, tell me how you fixed things between you and Amy before I turn on to Euclid Avenue just to irritate the crap out of you."

The mere idea of having to bounce through that particular street's copious speed bumps was enough inducement for Sheldon to divulge—even though he had a firm rule about succumbing to blackmail. "If you must know, I sent her a second gift. One she will in no way be able to refuse."

"How do you know she won't be able to refuse it?"

"Because I know Amy, and thanks to my eidetic memory, I can replay every conversation we ever had—filtering out any unnecessary information, of course—and was able to retrieve the one thing she wants more than anything else." He smiled widely.

"You went over to her lab to have sex with her?"

The smile dropped off his face as he sputtered, "W-w-what? No! Why on earth would you think the one thing Amy wants most in the world is coitus with me? Really, Leonard, you have no understanding of women as I do. Perhaps, one day, when you have ceased allowing hormones and arousal to rule your existence, you will realize that." He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "What am I saying? The day you let hormones stop ruling you will be the day you die."

Leonard didn't seem offended by this. If anything, he laughed and said, "Thank God for that."

Sheldon glared in disapproval. "That you would rather celebrate your inability to manage your endocrine system just further demonstrates my superiority. And as I successfully concluded my work day without the second gift being rebuffed, I would say I was correct in dealing with Amy as well."

"You know, if you let your endocrine system manage things once and a while, you might like it. I know Amy would," Leonard muttered.

A memory flashed unwillingly in his head. His last kiss with her. If that wasn't a case of one's endocrine system taking over, he didn't know what was. The memory of it left him feeling ashamed. As much as he'd been working towards coitus with Amy, he'd wanted it to take place under conditions where he remained in control. With that last kiss—as well as the one the night of Leonard's coming home party—control was the last thing he'd been able to manage. _What if I hadn't been able to stop? Would I have hurt Amy? Or myself? _He didn't like to imagine either scenario. There had to be a way around this. A way to give Amy the physical intimacy she wanted without letting chaos consume them both.

"So, what did you get her?" Leonard prompted.

Sheldon looked up. They were exactly four minutes from home. He felt his body begin to innately relax as it always did at the mere thought of being near home. Finally, he glanced over. "It was simple—although I must tell you Candace gave me the most terrible idea to begin with."

Leonard let out a little girlish giggle. "You actually considered taking advice from the girl who helped to cause some of the problems with your girlfriend? Not good."

"Do you need to have your ears checked? I said she gave me terrible advice. That would clearly indicate I didn't take it."

"What did she say?"

Sheldon smirked. "She told me I should write her a letter explaining my feelings to Amy—like I was some kind of hippie. Then, at the bottom of the letter, I should deliver an ultimatum which clearly makes her choose between our relationship or her reputation. While I did not exactly disagree with the last part of that idea, it was clear this would be deemed another 'romantic' gesture in Amy's eyes. If she didn't like the first, what would make me think she would like another?" He thinned his lips in distaste.

"You think that letter would be considered a romantic gesture?"

"Of course. Anytime a man pours his emotions out, it's considered romantic. Honestly, Leonard, have you never seen a romantic comedy? There are few reasons I am thankful to have a twin sister, but my thorough understanding of romance in pertaining to women's minds comes from time spent with her and being forced to watch the likes of Dirty Dancing, Pretty Woman, and When Harry Met Sally. In the end, the hero always has to pour his heart out. It's revolting, but true." He gave an all-over body shiver of disgust.

"You consider yourself to be an authority on romance?"

"I'm an authority on many subjects. However, I would consider my knowledge of romance to be a familiarity at best. Although, between living with my sister and my many dealings with my girlfriend, I must admit I am fast becoming an authority on the subject."

Leonard stared at him longer than was safe when one was driving a car.

"Leonard, your eyes should remain on the road at all times when operating a vehicle."

"Just when I think your ego can't get any bigger, you prove me wrong."

Sheldon might not be able to pick up on sarcasm, but he well understood a compliment when he heard one. "Thank you, Leonard." As he was feeling quite magnanimous at the moment, he offered, "Do you need some help in dealing with Penny?"

"Penny and I are fine. Why don't you tell me what you sent to Amy to cool her temper?"

They pulled into the parking lot of their apartment building and took their designated spot. Sheldon waited until they were inside the building and climbing the stairs before he answered.

"I purchased her a year-pass to the zoo and had it delivered to her."

Leonard stopped walking. "You think a pass to the zoo is going to make her stop being angry at you?"

Sheldon turned to stare at his friend. "You didn't let me finish. I purchased her a year-pass at the zoo as well as reserved a specialty pass which allows her a one-time chance to feed and interact with the monkeys. Do you know how long she has wanted to do that? The zoo has strict rules against permitting visitors that kind of access, but I was able to pull some strings to get it for her. I will admit that I had been working on it for some time as I meant to give it to her for her birthday, but this occasion clearly warranted it more." He grinned. "Now do you recognize my cleverness? No matter how angry Amy gets at me, she can never turn down monkeys. It's a fact. She has said this to me on more than one occasion." He tapped the side of his head. He could still see the rectangular piece of card stock he'd slipped into a small box covered in red wrap and topped with a gold bow. The card itself was quite attractive. It was adorned in a delicate gold-leaf border and the words giving Amy the power to feed the monkeys were written in a swirly red script and signed at the very bottom by the head of the zoo himself.

With a final shake of his head, Leonard began climbing again, but said nothing.

A few minutes passed this way until Sheldon began to resent his friend's inability to admit he was wrong. There was also the slightest sliver of fear that Leonard may have a reason for suspecting Amy wouldn't like the present. _Don't be ridiculous. It's perfect. How could she refuse? Besides, she didn't send it back, did she?_ That fact made him feel better.

They started up the landing for the fourth floor before his roommate spoke again. "Sheldon, I know part of this is my fault in that I am the one who first introduced the idea of you buying gifts to get around Amy's anger. But I am telling you point-blank. This time, it's not going to work. She's furious at you, and she has every right to be. You have everyone in the entire university thinking she's having sex with you when she really isn't. Women don't like that."

"Why can't you just admit you were wrong and I was right? She didn't send back to gift. That is a fact. Therefore, I have no reason to believe our argument isn't over. Plus, I have made amends in terms of some of the issues she has—something I will be telling her about on our date. Finally, as I plan to pay for her dinner tonight, I believe any issues she may have had will be completely resolved by the time I return home."

Leonard made it to the door first and began inserting his key in the door. He hadn't replied, but then again, Sheldon didn't need him to. His silence was telling in itself. Being correct was enough for him. Yet, as Leonard's movements ceased and the door did not open, Sheldon became annoyed.

"Are you going to have us standing in the hallway all pre-evening?" he demanded. Leonard knew he had a complicated cleaning ritual ahead of him before he would be ready and willing to see Amy. He would need every minute of time to get ready. He might have alleviated Amy's anger, but there was still protocol to complete before this situation was firmly in hand. When Leonard still refused to move, Sheldon came up behind him to force him aside. Apparently, there was a problem with the keys.

As he was about to touch Leonard, his roommate turned and presented a long, business envelope with "Sheldon" scrawled across the front. If the handwriting hadn't given away who it was from, the fact that it was an exact duplicate of the one he had received earlier with the flowers would have tipped him off. He glanced up at Leonard, who was staring right back at him. From the expression on the experimental physicist's face, he seemed to be waiting for him to open it.

Sheldon gave a noncommittal shrug. "She's probably thanking me for my present."

Leonard said nothing. Just kept watching and waiting.

Sheldon inserted his thumb into the slight flap along the edge and tore the envelope open. At first, what he saw inside made no sense. There was no message in her handwriting. No apology for her earlier note. No return of his gift. No thank you gift. There were just tiny little squares of white paper, all uniform in size and shape. One word was scribbled on each square, perfectly in the middle in black ink.

"No."

The closer he looked, the more he realized the pieces weren't all the same. Some had a little line of gold trim while others had a tiny bit of swirly red lettering on the back. That was when he realized what he was holding.

_No._

_She didn't._

_She couldn't._

But, Amy did, Amy could, Amy had. His blood ran cold at the implications. Before full panic could explode within him, Sheldon had no choice but to give credit where credit was due.

Amy Farrah Fowler certainly knew how to make a point.


	9. Second Time's The Charm

**Chapter Nine: Second Time's The Charm**

"Hello, Sheldon."

"Hello, Amy."

When she had first opened the door at 7:06 on their date night, Sheldon was a little concerned. After all, he'd been forced to knock twice, which amounted to eighteen knocks in total when one took into account that the average knock consisted of a mandatory series of three short raps on the door repeated in a treble pattern—or, at least, average as far as he was concerned.

Sheldon's eyes combed warily over his girlfriend's face, searching for clear signs of anger or distress. However, there were none to be found beyond a slight swelling and reddening around her eyes—and that could just as easily be due to allergies as being upset. Overall, Amy seemed calm and composed. Her beige skirt was ironed and neat, her blue tights seemed unblemished, and the plum blazer she was wearing over a pink button down top was one of his favorites as it brought out a rosiness in her complexion which he found oddly fascinating. Her sheen of dark hair was brushed perfectly straight and cascaded down her shoulders like a fountain of sparkling milk chocolate.

"Come in, Sheldon," she said, stepping aside so he could enter.

He thanked her as he passed by, not bothering to unbutton his gray suit jacket as he secured his usual seat. Sheldon had taken extra care in his appearance tonight, even applying a bit of the cologne his sister had given him for Christmas last year because Amy had once remarked how much she liked it. He'd brought along a tall, black umbrella, which he leaned against the edge of the coffee table so he wouldn't forget it later. Turning, his eyes tracked her as she walked into the kitchen. He declined her offer of refreshment and was surprised when she returned cradling a glass of red wine in one hand.

As she took a seat across from him on the couch, he watched her take a delicate sip, a bit of the liquid pooling slightly on the plateau of her bottom lip. Her tongue slipped out to catch the drop before disappearing back inside her mouth. The action caused his stomach to tighten in a strange way. His eyes locked on those pinkened lips, noticing for the first time that she was wearing a fair amount of gloss this evening. He'd told her on more than one occasion that it made her lips look slippery. And that was true. But tonight, it also made them seem as succulent and beckoning as ripe fruit. He idly wondered what it would feel like to kiss her now. Would his lips slide right off or would the gloss act more like a glue keeping them together? Did the gloss have a flavor? Would it make the act of kissing her even sweeter than it already was? Was such a thing even possible?

"Sheldon? Do you mind if I speak first?"

He looked up at her, shocked at how lost in his thoughts he'd been. Now was hardly the time for woolgathering. There were things to be said. He had to stay on top of this if he wanted to stay in control. Leonard said his plan was crazy, but Sheldon knew better. Not only had his mother had him tested, but he knew Amy better than anyone—especially Leonard. He knew what she needed, and he was going to give it to her.

"Actually," he said, clearing his throat, "I have something I need to say first, if you don't mind."

She inclined her head in acquiescence and took another slow nip of her wine. It unnerved him that she was drinking. Was this a sign of how upset she was? For the 818th time since he'd met Amy, he cursed Penny's obvious influence on her. Alcohol was never the way to solve anything. His father had more than proved that in his nearly fifty-five years on the planet.

Sheldon looked down at the hands clenched in his lap. Thanks to his memory, he was able to easily recall the speech he had practiced on his way over. All he needed to do was gather the courage to deliver it. _This has to work. If it doesn_'t, _what will she make me do? Will she make me beg? Bring me to my knees? Make me_—No, he refused to even consider any of that. The mere idea of the mighty Sheldon Cooper being brought to his knees was ridiculous. _It will work. I'm a genius. I know Amy. It will work._

"It is evident from your actions of today that the two gifts I sent you were not welcome. It does not take a genius to deduce why. I want you to know that you have more than made your point, and, after long and careful deliberation, I concede that it is a valid one."

"Thank you, Sheldon."

Smiling, he glanced up at her. The smile died a quick death. He'd been expecting her to have her usual cheerful expression. The friendly smile and the warm, welcoming green eyes he could sink into like a fuzzy blanket on a cold day. However, Amy wasn't smiling. Her expression was closed, placid, and gave nothing away. A spike of fear coursed through him.

Clearing his throat, he continued, "I should never have hired Candace without telling you about it. I can see now that it could possibly be considered a breach of our relationship agreement Section 11, Subsection 3B, which—"

"It could _possibly_ be considered a breach?" she repeated. The pitch in her tone gave him a hint of underlying anger.

"It was a breach," he immediately corrected. "A definite breech. Because of this, I have fired Candace. As punishment, I will have to go without an assistant until Alex comes back on Monday."

"It's Thursday."

"Yes." He observed her carefully, unsure where she was going with this. It was date night, after all. Date nights always happened on Thursday. Why would she feel the need to remind him of the day of the week?

"So you have to go one day without an assistant?"

She placed her wine glass on a coaster on the coffee table and regarded him with something akin to frustration. His eyes caught on a folded white piece of paper lying next to the coaster, but he didn't have time to wonder what it was as her question discernibly demanded an immediate answer.

"Yes." Surely she realized what this meant? It wasn't just one day. It was one of the most important days in his career. The final proposal for his project with Kripke was due tomorrow. The proposal had to be perfect or Gablehauser would never let them hear the end of it. Moreover, it had to be perfect so the university would be able to secure the necessary funding. Not having an assistant would mean he would have to get his own lunch, answer his own phone, and pick up his own dry cleaning. Who had time for all of that when he already had so much else to accomplish?

"You fired Candace today?"

He exhaled a little, relaxing. Indubitably, this would make her happy and soothe the temper he'd been sure was brewing only minutes ago. "Yes."

"What reason did you give?"

"Her job was always going to be temporary."

"You still had to give a reason for terminating her employment early. What did you say?"

"I told her the truth."

"Which is?"

He didn't want to say. There was something about her hard tone that told him he was balancing precariously on some narrow ledge as it was. One wrong word could catapult him into an unknown abyss. Still, he couldn't not tell her. Wouldn't that be worse?

"I explained that her work was substandard."

"You think that's the truth?"

He shrugged. "It is the truth. I asked her to sort my paper clips. She sorted by size only. Anyone with half a brain knows one should sort by brand, then color and finally size."

Amy opened her mouth as if to argue with him, but closed it just as quickly. "I see. Do you have anything else to add before I speak?"

He searched his brain a moment. How could he have possibly forgotten the most important part?

"Yes, Leonard tells me that women do not wish to have their bedroom activities known to the general public—even if those activities are not actually occurring. Thus, I will speak to Kripke tomorrow and demand that he cease discussing our physical relationship with his friends and colleagues. Moreover, I will no longer answer any question he puts to me on this score."

Sheldon sat back against the couch, relieved to have expressed everything he'd meant to express. Surely this would finally alleviate Amy's anger, and they could get back to where they were only days ago. He missed their texts messages and Skyping with her. He even missed hearing her complain about her mother and the overall incompetence of her lab assistants. Most of all, Sheldon missed just having her nearby. Somehow, over the summer, he'd grown more dependent upon her company. He'd thought having Leonard back would make this feeling go away. It hadn't. If anything, it was more persistent than ever.

Amy snatched the wine glass up and, with a deft flick of her wrist, downed the contents in one, fluid gulp. Getting to her feet, she returned to the kitchen and poured herself another glass. Once she had resumed her seat, she relaxed against the sofa. If one were not watching her eyes, one could presume that she was comfortable and untroubled. But Sheldon was looking at her eyes. They were blazing at him worse than the day she'd overheard him with Kripke. Only, this time, there wasn't just anger in there. There was something similar to hurt in there as well. _Why would she be hurt?_

"Do you have anything else to say to me?" she asked, returning her glass to the coffee table.

Sheldon searched his mind, but came up empty. _What else was there left to say?_ He had delivered the apology she wanted, made amends for his transgressions, and even enacted a punishment for himself. Yet, after a moment's deliberation, he realized there was indeed something else he had to offer her.

"Yes. When we go to dinner tonight, I will pay the entirety of the check. Order whatever you like. It's on me." He smiled, pleased with himself.

She inhaled sharply and balled her hands into little fists. "That's it?" she hissed between gritted teeth.

Sheldon unconsciously leaned away from her. "Did you want dessert, too?" he asked, confused.

Exhaling, she impatiently shoved her hair over one shoulder. "No. I want a real apology, but I suppose that's too much to expect from the most stubborn man on the planet."

"I did apologize."

"Not about Kripke you didn't."

It was his turn to exhale in disdain. "I have been over this with you. I have nothing to apologize for in terms of Kripke. I never told him we were engaging in coitus. He deduced that all on his own."

"I see," she said, taking her glass and settling back against the arm of the sofa. "So lies only occur when one specifically says something one knows is not true to someone else. Is that it?"

He knew where she was going with this line of questioning, but she clearly didn't understand the situation. "Amy, you don't understand—"

"No, no, Sheldon. You have had your turn to lead the discussion. Now, it's mine. So, under your supposition that lies only occur when one speaks an untruth aloud, you are not guilty of anything. Is this correct?"

Sheldon watched her guardedly. He'd never seen her like this. "Yes."

"I see. Let's put that wonderful, eidetic memory of yours to the test, shall we? Do you remember on Tuesday when Kripke asked you if I liked teddies? What did you tell him?"

"I said, 'Amy's not into stuffed animals.'"

"And then he said?" she prompted.

"'No, I mean lingerie. You know, like crotchless panties and see-through nighties.'" He broke off. "Amy, what is the point to all of this?"

"I'm getting there. Then, after you explained the general impracticality of crotchless panties, what did he say next?"

The words came to Sheldon's tongue unbidden, like she was in charge of his brain instead of him. He closed his eyes, but the dialogue still spilled from his mouth like verbal vomit. "'Oh, I get it. You're probably a simple man. You just like her naked, am I right?'"

"And then you replied?"

He kept his eyes closed so he didn't have to look at her as he answered. "'Yes. The quicker she is without clothes, the quicker we can exchange bodily fluids, sweat all over each other, and make pleas to a deity neither of us believe in. It's great. Best thing ever. Now, can we get back to work?'"

She was quiet. Too quiet. His curious brain had to know what she was doing. He opened first one eye then the other. Amy was holding her wine glass and had swallowed almost half of it. Not a good sign. She had to understand the circumstances. He never would have said that if he knew—

"Sheldon," she said, swirling the wine in her glass. "What you said to Kripke about us 'exchanging bodily fluids,' would you say that—according to the definition you and I just agreed to—is a lie?"

She was a black widow spider, and he was a trapped fly. He could struggle all day, but she had him dead to rights. She knew it. He knew it. She knew he knew it. Her eyes finally left the wine and pinned him. "Well?" she demanded.

He gulped. "Yes."

"And you don't think you owe me an apology for telling such a bold-faced lie?"

"You have to understand the situation, Amy. It wasn't like it was Leonard, Raj, or Howard. It was Kripke. _Kripke._ What would you have had me do?"

She knocked back her wine and set the empty glass on the coffee table before leaning towards him. "How about telling the truth?"

"B-b-but, then he would have thought he was better than me. He would have thought he was smarter than me," he blurted, jumping to his feet. She couldn't think he would allow such an atrocity to occur when one stupid lie could take it all away? What difference did it make what Kripke thought was going on, especially if it wasn't true?

"I see."

He was beginning to hate whenever she said that. Clearly, she didn't see.

"So, Sheldon," she continued, getting to her feet as well. "You thought it was better to throw my reputation under the bus than to have a fellow physicist know his paper was better than yours—even though it plainly was. You admitted as much to me the night I offered you a consoling hug."

That was irrelevant. Didn't she know that? "How did I throw your reputation anywhere? You act like I was telling everyone that you're some kind of hussy. You're my girlfriend and have been for the last two years. It's expected that we would be engaging in coitus."

"And yet we aren't, are we?"

He inhaled hard and stepped back. "Is this where you begin pressuring me to succumb to your feminine wiles? I've already told you, I'm working on that—"

"I have no doubt you are," she interrupted, picking up the empty glass and returning to the kitchen. When she'd filled it for a third time, it was enough to send him over the edge.

"Must you drink at a time like this?"

"Believe me, as angry as I am, I need to be drinking right now."

"As inebriated as you obviously are, there is no way you can drive us to dinner. As my dinner time is rapidly approaching—"

"Sheldon, do you consider our relationship at all important?"

"What?" he said, stopping his speech mid-sentence. "Of course I do. I wouldn't be here if I didn't. I certainly wouldn't have worked so diligently putting together our relationship agreement."

"Then cease speaking of dinner and listen to me carefully. Whether your ego will allow you to accept this or not, I want you to understand me. You permitted Kripke to believe lies about me and to spread those lies throughout your workplace. You allowed this because it was easier to slander me than it was to have him know the truth, which is that in terms of this project, he was smarter than you. You lied to him and you let those lies bring hurt to me. And, in the end, you chose your own ego over our relationship."

"I did not. You still don't get it. I didn't lie in the beginning. I just didn't correct his misconception. It's not the same thing, and—by the way—no one is smarter than me."

"Obviously that's not true. You yourself acknowledged to me that Kripke's research and insights were far superior to your own."  
_ What difference did that make?_ "My IQ is 187. His is 169. He's not smarter than me."

"It's irrelevant."

"No it isn't. _No one_ is smarter than me—well, except maybe Stephen Hawking, and I would need to see his IQ test to be sure. My IQ is 187, for Christ's sake."

"Mine is 190."

The swirling outrage, anger, and frustration that had been clouding his mind abruptly disappeared under the weight of shock. "What?"

"You heard me. You say no one is smarter than you. Well, _I_ am. And, like I said, it's irrelevant."

"You said your IQ was 183. You _lied_ to me."

"No, I believe if you'll think back, you guessed early on that my IQ was around 183 based on your perceptions of me at the time. I simply didn't correct you."

"That's the same thing!" he accused, more furious than he'd ever been in his life.

"Yes," she said, a bitter smile on her face. "It is, isn't it?"

And, just like that, Sheldon realized he had been had in more ways than one. He wanted to scream at her, to rail against the injustice of all of it, to argue against her irrefutable logic, to strike her, to kiss her, to congratulate her for her pure brilliance and cleverness—all at the same time. But he did none of it. He simply watched as she walked over to the coffee table and picked up the folded piece of paper that had been lying there.

Unfolding it, she scanned the lines on the page a moment and sighed heavily before turning to look at him.

"What is that?" he asked.

She held it out to him. "This is the termination notice in the relationship agreement. As you can see, I've signed the bottom. As per the agreement, I will also be sending you notice via certified mail within three days."

He stared at the paper in his hand, unable to believe it. She was breaking up with him? Why? Because he wasn't smart enough? Surely that couldn't be the reason. She'd known she was smarter from the beginning. Because of Kripke? It couldn't be. That was ridiculous. His eyes locked on her signature at the bottom in black ink. She'd signed it. She'd had it ready and waiting before he'd even arrived.

"You were going to break up with me before I even got here?"

She turned her back on him and walked over to her desk to retrieve a large, silver gift bag. Pivoting, he could see a fine mist of tears in her eyes had developed. What was she crying about? She was breaking up with him. Wasn't this what she wanted?

"I was hoping you had finally realized what you had done. I was hoping your stubborn will would bend just a little to allow you to see the pain you've caused. But it won't. It never will, and my patience has run out waiting on it to do so."

"No," he argued. "I bend for you all the time. You have me doing things I don't want to do _all the time_. You push me _all the time_. But just because I won't fall to my knees over you, you think—"

"I don't push. I nudge you, Sheldon. There's a difference. I nudge you because the alternative is for us to remain as we are forever. Do you know what happens to things that remain as they are forever? They stagnate, they mummify. I don't want that and, if you think about it, neither do you."

No. This couldn't happening. Surely she understood how important she was to him. Surely she knew how much he needed her. She was as essential as oxygen. Why would she do this? He hadn't wanted a girlfriend, but she had insisted and now she was just calling it all off? No, he wouldn't stand for it.

"Please, Amy," he begged. "Please don't do this to me."

A tear fell down her cheek as she handed the silver bag to him. "I'm sorry, Sheldon, but everyone has their line. This is mine, and you crossed it. It's obvious from your actions that you don't respect me and you never will. Not really. It's also obvious that you'll never ever be able to put me first. It's always going to be about your ego, your desires, and you. I'll be somewhere at the bottom of the totem pole after the Flash and before your favorite pair of pajamas." She exhaled and brushed the tear away. No more followed. Somehow, that knowledge hurt him more than anything else. "There was a time when that was OK with me. After all, I've never come first for anyone. Why would a boyfriend be any different? But I've changed. I want more now, and you can't give me that."

"I can. I can kiss you. I want to make love to you, and I will. I'm working towards that every day." The tears which had stopped falling on her face were now flooding his own. He didn't care. He couldn't lose her. Not now. Not like this.

"I know you are, but this isn't about physical affection. If it were only that, I could wait years for you. It's about more than that. It's about me and what I need, what I deserve."

"Tell me," he beseeched. "Whatever it is. Tell me, and I'll give it to you."

"No, you won't."

He gritted his teeth. "Yes I will. Try me."

She closed her eyes, looking exhausted and haggard. Finally, her eyes popped back open and she said, "Fine. Will you make me more important than your comics?"

"Yes."

"Physics?"

"Yes."

"Your mother?"

"Y-yes."

"The Nobel Prize?"

He hesitated. He hadn't meant to. It was involuntary. He'd opened his mouth to quickly agree, but he could tell it was too late. He'd waited too long. He'd lost her.

"Here," she said, dangling the silver bag in front of him.

Sheldon took it and stared down at the contents. There were two H.G. Wells novels he'd given her; what was left of a book of Cooper Coupons; a boxed set of Star Trek: The Next Generation DVDs; a long, folded sheet of paper that seemed to be his emergency contact form for work; and assorted other items he had given or loaned her over the course of their relationship. On top of it all was the small, silver tiara he'd purchased for her so long ago. His heart squeezed painfully in his chest at the mere sight of it.

"These things are yours. I gave them to you."

"It is my understanding that this is the established protocol during a break up. Besides, I believe having those things around would only make this harder for me."

He looked up, surprised to find her already over by the door with her hand on the knob. "Amy, don't do this. We can talk about it, negotiate—"

"I don't want to negotiate anymore, Sheldon. There are some things that can't be compromised. My self-respect is one of them." She opened the door. "Please just go. If there is anything else, I will have it shipped to you." She paused and bit her lip. "I would say 'Let's be friends,' but the truth is that I care about you too much to ever be just your friend again."

"But, Amy … " He broke off, unsure of what he could say to change her mind. There had to be something. Things couldn't end like this.

Tossing the bag on the couch, he charged towards her, cradling her jaw between his hands as he roughly pulled her mouth up to meet his. He kissed her, pouring every bit of emotion he had into it. He might not be the kind of hippie to spout off every feeling, but he could show her what she meant to him. He could make amends. She just had to know he was serious; she had to give him some time. His Amy always gave him more time.

She struggled against him, but he kept a tight hold, trying to coax her stubborn lips to kiss him back. He gentled the kiss, massaged her mouth carefully with his own. She tasted of strawberries and wine, and he devoured every drop of her he could. She moaned and opened slightly under him, something he took immediate advantage of. Amy was succumbing. She was giving in. He was winning. He slipped his tongue inside of her mouth, uncaring of germs or the overall icky feeling that usually accompanied such a gesture. Tonight it felt good. Her tongue met his and slithered erotically against him. He deepened the kiss, jerking her body to his, wrapping her firmly in his embrace so she could never escape.

_She's mine. She's always been mine. She always will be mine_. If he could have tattooed those three sentences on her forehead, he would have. Since he couldn't, he set about kissing the knowledge into her with every fiber of his being.

When he finally pulled back, he looked down at her. She blinked and stared disorientedly back at him. He smiled and reached up to caress her cheek. She understood now. They could work this out. Somehow, some way. They would.

"You should go now, Sheldon," she murmured.

His hand dropped away in shock. "But, Amy, I just—"

"Kissing me didn't change my mind. If anything, it only proved what I've been saying all along." She pulled out of his embrace and walked over to the couch. Gathering up all of the items, she gently shoved them into his arms and went to open the door. "You should go now."

Sheldon had never been good at reading expressions, but the current one on her face was abundantly clear. She was serious and determined. Nothing he could say was going to sway her. He stumbled over to the door, almost as if he had no more control over his body than he had over this situation.

"Goodbye, Sheldon," she said when he had made it to the other side of the threshold.

"Goodbye, Amy," he automatically replied, unable to stop himself from watching as she slowly and firmly closed the door in his face.

At last, he was brought to his knees, literally and figuratively. But, whether it was from Amy's words or the mere finality of that gesture, he couldn't really say.


	10. Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

**Chapter Ten: Breaking Up Is Hard To Do**

_I don't understand._

It wasn't that Sheldon hadn't thought something like a break-up could happen. He prided himself on being the cautious type to consider things from every angle before he proceeded forward in any venture. Thus, when he had decided to elevate Amy from the position of friend to girlfriend, he certainly considered that their relationship could, at some point, end. In fact, given what he knew of such things, the outcome was more than likely. And he certainly had no wish to be like his parents, trapped in a situation neither truly wanted with no clear way out. It was why he'd included a termination notice in the relationship agreement in the first place.

_I don't understand._

His brain was in suspended animation. This was a singular phenomenon. He couldn't process any new information like what he was doing, what was happening around him, or even where he was. No, his mind remained rooted to one concept and one concept only: Amy had ended their relationship. _No, I thought she … I was so sure. How could she be so callous and uncaring towards me?_

_I don't understand._

His eidetic memory was his worst enemy. Over and over, it replayed their last conversation together. Only this time, he wasn't a participant, he was merely an observer with no power to change the horrendous outcome. Every word was a shallow cut in an already bloody, ragged wound. Her aloof manner, the robotic politeness in her gestures. Sheldon hadn't noticed anything was off at first, but all the signs were clearly there. _There are none so blind as those who will not see._ How many times had Meemaw told him that?

He could see it all now. Each time the reel of memory would begin playing unbidden in his mind, he found something new to show him just how much Amy did care. The tremor in her hand as she held the wineglass when she'd first started to talk. The light of hope in her eyes when he'd told her he had something to say. The slight wince when he announced he wouldn't be telling Kripke the truth, that he didn't owe her an apology. The wounded look when she pronounced him to be the most stubborn man on the planet. The hopelessness in her movements as she had reached for the termination notice. The little moan that came from the back of her throat when he'd kissed her, the one he thought signaled her surrender to his will. It wasn't surrender. It had been a sign of pain. He'd been hurting her. Maybe not physically, but certainly emotionally. And, most of all, what had happened at the end. Over and over, he could see the little shudder that had overtaken her body as she closed the door in his face. _Oh, yes, she cared all right—more than I ever thought possible. _And yet, she still terminated their relationship.

_I don't understand._

Why couldn't she just tell him what she wanted? He would have given it to her. He would have done anything to keep her with him. Hadn't he already proven that? Did she think he went around kissing just anyone, planning coitus with just anyone, begging just anyone? Whatever it was she needed, he could and would have provided.

_Would you? She told you what she wanted, what she needed. Leonard told you. You knew. You just weren't willing to give it to her. Amy's right. You chose your ego over her. _

But knowing this did nothing to change the outcome staring him blankly in the face. If such a thing existed, Sheldon would have diagnosed himself with a broken heart. But as that was a euphemism used by hippies to explain how they foolishly allowed themselves to get overly emotionally attached to the wrong partner, he knew that couldn't have anything to do with him. Still, something was definitely wrong with him. He was lightheaded, his chest was tight, he was on the verge of throwing up, and he couldn't stop crying.

_I don't understand._

Most alarming of all, he had no memory of how he'd gotten home. Yet, here he was in his room, sitting on his bed and hugging the silver bag to his chest. He hadn't been aware of any of it until he heard his name being yelled. Sheldon looked up towards the sound to find Leonard staring at him from the open doorway to his bedroom.

"Go away," Sheldon mumbled, pulling the bag closer to his body. It was the only thing which brought him comfort at this point, to be touching something that she had just touched. He noticed that one hand clutched a piece of paper. Pulling it closer, he saw that it was the termination notice Amy had signed. His eyes flew over the words on the page, each one a stab to his chest, and landed on the scrawl of her signature at the bottom.

Amy Farrah Fowler

His fingers traced the letters carefully. _I don't understand._

Leonard edged closer to the bed, holding out an oblong, black object in his hands. Sheldon closed his eyes, trying to force his roommate away by sheer will. Amy called him the most stubborn man on the planet. Surely that could grant him the power to accomplish this task. He needed to be alone. Time needed to stop, and life had to go away. He had neither the strength nor the patience to deal with either right now.

_I don't understand._

"Sheldon, take the phone," Leonard demanded, nudging him in the shoulder.

He looked up and opened his mouth to shout at Leonard to get out, but then realized what he'd said. _Phone?_ _Could it be Amy?_ Had she realized she'd made a mistake? Had this been a punishment? A time-out? Was she ready to take him back? Was it too much to hope for?

Jerking up from the bed, he snatched the receiver from Leonard's grasp and pressed it to his ear. "Amy? I'm so sorry. Please forgive me—"

"Shelly?"

_I don't understand. _His mother's voice registered, but he was still confused. He glared at the curly-haired man in front of him, sure this had to be some kind of joke. Why would Leonard think he would want to talk to his mother? Why couldn't he get Amy on the phone? If he wanted to help so much, surely he knew that was the only thing Sheldon would want right now?

"Shelly? Talk to me, honey."

"I'm here, Mom," he said, glaring at Leonard until the experimental physicist colored and backed out of the room. Once the door was firmly shut, Sheldon reached over and grabbed the silver bag again, holding it against him. "Don't worry. I'm fine."

"Leonard told me about your situation. I'm so sorry you and Amy broke up, baby."

_I don't understand._

There was something about his mother saying that which made the whole thing feel all the more real. Sheldon didn't like it. He wanted to scream at her, but thirty-plus years of breeding and discipline from this woman held him in check. He said nothing, listening half-heartedly as she spouted every stereotypical cliché in the book at him. How she thought saying "everything happens for a reason" would provide him any measure of comfort, he wasn't sure.

"Mom," he interrupted, when he just couldn't take it anymore. "I'm fine. Really. I promise to call you on our scheduled weekly chat on Sunday evening."

"Are you sure? I've been looking at flights. I could fly out. Maybe I could talk to Amy and help you work things out. She was so good for you."

As much as he understood how much that wouldn't do any good, a strange tugging started happening somewhere in his chest. It felt like someone had put a vice grip on his heart, which made no sense. Was he having a heart attack? Odder still, the tugging was somehow connected to his tear ducts because he began crying again. "Mom," he said, "please. You can't come here. I can't—"

"Are you crying?"

"Don't worry. I'm fine. Really, I— I—" He couldn't hold it in anymore. The tears and emotions and words just flooded out of him. "S-s-she broke it off, Mama. She broke it off, and I don't understand how I'm supposed to go on without her."

Somehow, saying that out loud made it all worse. He wasn't sure how long he sobbed. All he knew was that his mother was quiet the whole time. Finally, when he came back to himself, the phone as well as the hand currently gripping it, was covered in tears and mucus. The sight of it should have sent him into a disinfecting frenzy, but he found he didn't have the strength to care. Besides, his mother was talking now.

"The Lord sure works in mysterious ways. I never thought I'd see the day when my Shelly would find the woman for him. I was positive you'd be alone forever."

"I liked being alone," he muttered, wiping at his tear-stained cheeks.

"I know, honey, but it isn't the way anyone should spend a life. I want all of my children to experience the comfort and happiness that finding your life partner can give you."

For once, Sheldon didn't point out the hypocrisy in her statement in regards to her own choice of a life partner. He didn't question her logic, motive or even her sanity. No, for once, he hung on every word she said as if she were Stephen Hawking talking about gravitational singularities theorems in the framework of general relativity. As long as Mom was talking like this, it seemed like Amy was still with him, still his.

"Amy is the one for you, Shelly," she said. "Now, my question is, are you gonna just sit there crying on your bed or are you going to do something about getting her back?"

_She's the one._ He wasn't sure he even knew what that meant. The vice tightened on his heart. Did it even matter anymore? It was over now. All over. "She signed the termination notice. She's not going to change her mind."

"Sheldon Lee Cooper, you're just gonna give up like that? You think you're just gonna find_ the one_ around every corner? Amy is it for you. If she won't listen to you, you just use the brains God gave you, the stubborn will your daddy gave you, and the charm I gave you, and you make her listen."

Sheldon sat up a little straighter. _Make her listen._

"I mean it," his mother continued. "Say whatever you gotta say and do whatever you gotta do, but you get her back. You hear?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"All right then. I'm going to give you the weekend to get things sorted. But I warn you, if Leonard calls me next week telling me you're collecting cats or doing some other such nonsense, I'm coming to California to talk to that girl myself. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

He wasn't really paying attention now. He was too busy looking down at his free hand, which was still grasping the notice Amy had signed. The words were water-logged as if they'd been out in a rainstorm or something. Yet, he could still make them out. One section in particular held him fascinated.

_In addition to signing below, the initiator of this termination is duty bound to send official notice within three business days via certified mail. Unless and until this final obligation has been fulfilled and received by the non-initiator, all parties remain bound to the relationship agreement and all covenants housed therein._

At the time he'd drafted that particular paragraph, he'd believed it would make things sound more official. After all, everything was more official when one used certified mail. Now, however, it sounded like a loophole. Amy had said she sent the notice. That meant she had mailed it that afternoon or probably on her way home from work. So, there was still time. After all, everyone knew that business days did not include Saturday, which meant he had an entire weekend where he was still officially her boyfriend. And, as long as she was his girlfriend, there still hope he could get her to change her mind, right?

_She's the one. Make her listen. Do whatever I have to do. _

_Yes, that I can understand._

—**TMR—**

There were three knocks at the door, and someone called out her name. A smile broke out over her face. _It's him._ Out of reflex, she waited for the second series of knocks to begin. When the pause went on longer than it should have, Amy realized it wasn't Sheldon behind the door after all. Common sense also pointed out that the voice which had called her name was decidedly feminine.

Suddenly, there was nothing left to smile about.

_Did you really think it would be him? You terminated the relationship, remember? He's probably thrilled to be rid of you._

She knew that last part probably wasn't true, but truth had no place in the mindset of the broken-hearted.

_Is that what I am? Broken-hearted? Is this what that feels like?_ _Depressed? Certainly. Upset? Of course. Disappointed? You bet. But broke-hearted? __Not possible._ If she was of a mind to get off the couch, Amy would have attached electrodes to her brain to prove it to herself. But like going to work, dressing, answering her phone, and bathing, it felt like too much trouble to bother with.

"I didn't cry though. Not one tear. Sheldon might have gotten me depressed, but he did not get me crying," she bragged. _Heartbroken? No way._

"Amy?" The knocks came again, more insistent this time. The high, near-to-panic pitch of the female voice told her it was Emily. Amy half-heartedly remembered the lunch plans she had with her sister and brother-in-law. _Oh well. Too late now. _Even better reason to not open the door. She was in no mood to deal with Angry Emily.

"Amy, I know you didn't go to work. I've already been there. Open this door right now or I'm going to break it down."

She sighed and flipped through the channels of her television, grimacing each time she happened upon anything remotely romantic. "Full House" had Uncle Jesse and Becky, "Little House on the Prairie" had Ma and Pa and Laura and Almanzo, and "Mork and Mindy" had, well, Mork and Mindy. Honestly, there weren't a lot out of shows out there that didn't have some element of romance to them. It was annoying. Even old reruns of "Family Feud" weren't safe. Too much kissing.

_Sheldon kissed you. It was a good kiss, too. Best you've ever had or probably ever will have again. Sure, he didn't apologize and he treated you like a total nothing, but couldn't you just tell him off instead ending the best relationship you ever had?_

Emotion welled within her. Tears bit at the back of her eyes. With a growl, she shoved all of it away and viciously flipped to the next channel. _Soap opera? Hell no._ _Oh look. Beavers. Aren't they cute? This is much better._

Then, little, brown babies started to come out to play, and the announcer said, "The basic units of beaver social organization are families consisting of an adult male and adult female in a monogamous pair and their kits and yearlings."

_Damn happily monogamous beavers._ Feeling betrayed, she stabbed her finger down on the remote and changed the channel again.

The pounding came again. "I hear the television, young lady. I know you're in there. Don't make me call Mom because I will. She'll come over and what will you do then?"

_I will sit here and ignore her, too_, Amy thought. _Duh._ There was a long pause as Emily let the threat sink in. Amy used this time to flip through a few more channels. _They even have couples on Wheel of Fortune. What is the world coming to?_

"That's it!" Emily huffed. "I'm calling Dad."

That was enough to get her off the couch. Having her father here right now was not an option. It was never an option.

"Oh, good Lord," she muttered, tossing the remote control on the coffee table next to the half-eaten boxes of candy as well as the deflated and dripping pint of Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Therapy, which, surprisingly, had managed to alleviate her obvious depression for a resounding five minutes.

Swinging open the door, Amy glared at her sister over the rims of her glasses, which were perched precariously low on the bridge of her nose. "What?" she demanded.

Emily's head shot up and down, quickly taking inventory. "What the hell happened to you?"

Reflexively, Amy looked down as well. She was wearing the over-sized sleep shirt Penny had bought her for her last birthday. It had Tweety Bird on it, but otherwise seemed fine. More importantly, it was very comfortable. She didn't know why she'd put off wearing it for so long. Flannel wasn't as comfortable as this. Flannel didn't breathe like this.

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"What am I—" Emily began, breaking off in obvious exasperation. "First, you don't show up for lunch. Then, you stop answering your phone. And now, you're standing in your doorway wearing a stained Tweety Bird nightgown and no bra. I don't think I've seen you without a bra since Mom got you the training one when you were eleven. You even sleep in the things. I remember because I said you were nuts to do so and you said, 'Breasts are muscles. If you don't train them, you lose them. Besides, only common tramps want their bosoms to hang to their knees.' I still think it's the only thing you and Mom ever agreed on and—Is that grape juice?"

Amy glanced down again, surprised to see a dried, maroon-colored stain swathing down the edge of her gown. She shrugged. "No, it's wine." Then, she noticed a sizable chocolate ice cream smear flaking along the top of her chest. She began to pick at it.

A male voice came echoing down the hallway. "OK, hon. I finally found a parking spot. Was Amy home—What the …?"

Both women looked up to see Emily's husband standing behind his wife. His eyes were locked on the breast Amy had been scratching at before quickly becoming fixed on the ceiling. "Did I miss something?" he asked, eyes still glued skyward.

Amy yawned and, satisfied at seeing some of the chocolate residue gone, began to finger-chisel at the rest of it.

Emily batted her hand away. "Stop doing that. My God." She turned to her husband. "Dooley, go get some lunch. Amy and I are gonna have a little sister time. Call before you come back."

"You sure?" Dooley asked, not bothering to look down as he started to back away.

Emily pulled a half-melted Raisinet from Amy's hair with a grimace. "Oh yeah. Go. Now."

"See you later, Amy," Dooley replied, scuttling off, "when you're … better."

Amy turned away and went back to plop on the couch. The slamming of the door startled her because it was loud and—frankly—unneeded. She frowned at her sister before picking up the remote again to change the channel. The _Love Boat_ was on. No way in hell she was gonna watch that. She was depressed, not suicidal.

She glanced at the clock on the guide on her television. It was nearly one in the afternoon. _Another six hours and it will be a full day since I terminated my relationship. Almost twenty-four hours and no crying_. _Well done, Fowler._

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Wondering why I pay so much for cable. All these channels and nothing's on," Amy quipped, not bothering to look up as her sister sank onto the couch beside her.

"Amy, what happened? I've never seen you like this. If I hadn't been to your job, I would have thought you got fired. Is it Sheldon? Did he break up with you or something?"

The question grazed her like a bullet. Amy turned to deliver another quip. Sarcasm was the best balm there was at a time like this. But the sympathy rising in Emily's expression did her in.

Amy closed her eyes, unable to process this with everything else. The stone wall she'd spent the last few hours erecting around her emotions was beginning to crumble. She'd cried one tear in front of Sheldon. She refused to give him anymore. If she gave in to that, she'd give in to other things like calling him or texting him or going to find him to beg him to take her back.

_He's a jerk who only cares about himself. You're well rid of him._ She inhaled and, keeping her eyes closed, said, "If you must know, I broke up with him. Good riddance." She opened her eyes and focused on the television. She flipped through the channels at a frenzy, not even trying to stop on anything.

Emily reached out to touch her arm. Amy flinched and snatched it away as though she'd been burned. "Don't touch me. I'm fine. Really."

"No matter how many adjectives I could come up with to describe you right now, 'fine' would not make the list." There was a long pause. "Why did you break up with him?"

"Because he's a self-centered jerk who's selfish and self-centered and egotistical and self-centered and—" Her voice caught, sounding suspiciously like she was choking back a sniffle. Swallowing the heavy knot in her throat, she coughed and returned her full attention back to the television. "I'm fine."

"No," Emily proclaimed. "You're heartbroken. I never thought I'd see the day, but here it is."

Amy stopped flipping channels and was about to start tearing apart that ridiculous assertion when she noticed what the television was now playing. _Star Trek. Spock._ There he was, walking with that perfect, precision-like posture, his hands clutched behind his back, cocking his head just so, and seeming so much like Sheldon her heart felt like it was being ripped from her chest. _Oh, God._

"Ah, honey," Emily murmured soft and low. "You really loved him, didn't you?"

She turned to her sister, unable to stop the tears from pouring now, unable to stop the emotion overtaking her body, and unable to stop the truth spilling from her mouth.

"Yes," she sobbed. "Yes, I really did."


	11. Sheldon Strikes Back

**Chapter Eleven: Sheldon Strikes Back**

It's a commonly accepted notion that after they had verbally expressed their innermost secrets, fears, and emotions to another human being, most people felt better.

Amy felt like cleaning.

_I love Sheldon._ She'd told her sister that, which was something she'd never directly admitted out loud to anyone before—not even herself. The feeling had always been there, of course. It was hard to remember a time she'd known Sheldon when it hadn't been there in some form or other. Over the summer, specifically, it had seemed to mushroom within her.

But like Pandora's infamous box, she'd left it alone. She'd been too afraid to give it a name, afraid of what it would mean for her relationship with Sheldon. He couldn't pick up on sarcasm, but he was more than able to pick up on other things. Would he be able to figure this out? Would it scare him away? Would it change their interactions, destroy the fragile but pleasing intimate connection they'd worked so diligently to construct? Would it make her want more, not only in terms of physical affection, but also in areas of emotional fulfillment? In particular, would it mean she would want to admit her feelings to Sheldon and to have him tell her he felt the same? She had a sneaking suspicion it would, and this only reminded her of the time she'd asked Sheldon to meet her mother. He'd flown into a complete panic and refused to speak to her because he'd assumed her request meant she'd fallen in love with him. Of course, at the time, it hadn't meant any such thing. But now … What would he do when he found out she really did love him? She hadn't wanted to consider that; so she'd pushed it all away. There would be time for that later, she'd always told herself. _Much, much later._

So, now that Pandora's box was well and truly open, she didn't feel better. It just stood as a reminder that the "later" she'd expected to have to work this all out would never come. It also made one fact abundantly clear: She loved Sheldon Cooper, and it was a scar she was going to carry for the rest of her life. How could one feel better about that?

Of course, once her feelings for Sheldon were out in the open, Amy couldn't seem to stop herself from spilling every embarrassing detail of the past week as well. On and on she'd talked until she felt like she'd born her soul to the world. The mere concept of that bothered her, as that was the kind of thing only hippies did. But logic-loving scientist or not, she'd done it.

Now that she'd blabbed everything, she didn't want to talk ever again. She wanted to immerse herself in something menial, anything so she didn't have to think. For the first time in her life, thinking was the enemy. To think was to consider all she'd had and all she'd lost again and again. _No. No. No. No thinking._ Thinking was a dangerous occupation right now.

She was overwhelmed with the need to wipe down her coffee table until she could see her face gleaming back at her in the pine. Not that she was necessarily concerned by the sudden compulsion. It was a family trait. Some Fowlers cleaned when they were angry and needed to take out all the negative energy on something. Some cleaned because they needed to keep their bodies busy while their minds worked through something complicated. Amy cleaned because her apartment was a disorganized, unhygienic mess and it was driving her to distraction. Maybe if she got her apartment in order, the rest of her life would follow as well.

She'd been hoping to at least be relieved to have shared all that had happened to her with her sister. Instead, she was oddly disappointed in herself and, at the same time, overcome with the sense that she'd done the right thing in dumping Sheldon. It was an odd paradox of emotion to be sure. While she didn't feel like celebrating or even smiling at this point, the anger she hadn't even realized she'd been holding on to had been released. There was a slight euphoria in the action; so she concentrated on that while she searched under the sink in the kitchen for her bottle of unscented Lysol and a few cleaning cloths.

It had taken one box of Kleenex, three glasses of wine, and a half a pack of Mallomars to explain the whole sordid tale to Emily. Thankfully, her sister hadn't spoken too much during the telling. Actually, she'd made only one comment. It was just that she had a strange habit of repeating it over and over like a refrain at the stickier and more upsetting points in the story. Amy hadn't taken it too seriously considering all the sordid details Emily had to hear—she'd always been a tad overprotective of her younger siblings, after all. But when Amy returned to the living room with cleaner and cloths in hand and began spraying and wiping everything in sight, the comment was made again, and Amy had to consider that maybe there was more to it than Emily just blowing off a little steam.

"I'm going castrate that man with a butcher knife."

"You don't mean that," Amy said, hoping she was right as she dropped wadded tissues, empty food cartons, and other sundry debris into a nearby trashcan. Still, it was nice to have someone stick up for her like that. It made her feel oddly vindicated in her actions.

Emily nodded. "You're right. A butcher knife is too good for him. I'm going castrate Sheldon Cooper with a dull spoon." Her eyes radiated the fury behind her threat as she gave a confident nod. "It'll hurt more."

The crazy light in her sister's eyes left Amy alarmed. Suddenly, she was very glad she'd never allowed her sister and her boyfriend to meet in person. _Ex-boyfriend_, she mentally corrected. When Emily rose from the couch and marched into the kitchen, she grew more concerned. Of course, that concern wasn't so much for Sheldon, it was for the dishes Emily was washing with the ferocity of a tornado in a trailer park.

Emily was an angry-cleaning Fowler, much like their mother. Since Amy knew there would be tons of questions from her sister as soon as she had worked through most of her rage —and because Amy had gotten a good look at herself in the mirror when she went to hang up the discarded plum sweater in her closet—she decided a long shower was in order.

It took two thorough scrubbings before she felt anywhere near clean. As she got out of the shower and began to towel-dry her hair, memories of Sheldon rose again to the surface. What would life be like now without him? She'd had a five-year plan set for them for so long; so it wasn't a question she'd ever contemplated before. Now, it wouldn't go away. She remembered when she'd received that second gift from him yesterday. Pulling the ornate card from the box and seeing something she'd wanted for a long time being used as a ploy to buy her silence had made something snap inside of her.

How could he do that? How could he be so callous to try to use something she loved so much against her? She'd hated him so much then. If he'd brought the gift in person, she was sure she would have struck him repeatedly across the face. Admitting this was shocking. Amy had always considered herself above such obvious displays of violence, but, in that moment, she could certainly understand the inclination.

It wasn't just that he'd sent her such a gift. It was that the gesture made it obvious how much Sheldon wasn't going to take her feelings seriously and how stubborn he was going to be in even understanding the situation. He honestly didn't believe he'd erred, and he was only humoring her with gifts so she'd stop punishing him. It made her feel like he'd been the one to slap her. Why would he send presents to cover up his mistakes instead of apologizing? Why did he think it was all right to do so?

_Because you've told him it was by your own prior actions._

It was true. She knew it. From the time she'd accepted the perfectly magnificent tiara, she'd set up a pattern of behavior which told him with absolute certainty that the way to get around her anger was through presents. She'd never contradicted this, verbally or otherwise. Even when he'd taken Wil Wheaton's side during her directorial debut of _Fun With Flags_, he'd given her a boxed DVD set of _Star Trek: The Next Generation _instead of apologizing. She'd slammed the door in his face, of course, but she'd eventually taken the gift. Then, the next day, he'd shown up at her lab with lunch for them both, and she'd let it all go. She'd never made him apologize. He'd looked sickly and a little green around the gills and she'd foolishly told herself that he was unwell because he'd missed her presence in his life. Then, he smiled the little boy smile of his that made her stomach clench and her heart do backflips and she was, in the words of Penny, "a goner".

Besides, he'd never repeated his mistake. No matter who was arguing with her, he always took her side. She'd told herself that was the most important thing. Now, she knew it wasn't. It was just another way Sheldon had been trying to get around getting punished or having her angry. He never stopped to consider her feelings except in relation to how it would affect him, and he never would.

"Arrogant and stubborn," she muttered, squeezing toothpaste on a toothbrush and taking her frustration out on plaque.

By the time she'd gargled and swished with Listerine for the required thirty seconds, she was calm again. She spit it out the mouthwash, wiped her mouth, and padded into her bedroom in search of clothes to wear. The Tweety Bird nightgown was out, of course. But as Amy pulled out her favorite blue flannel pajamas and slipped on a pair of white cotton underwear, she made a mental note to pick up another cotton night shirt similar to that one.

"You feeling better?" Emily said, pushing open the door and using her sisterly right to barge into Amy's bedroom without knocking.

Before her shower, Amy had been feeling tipsy—the effects of too much wine—but now she felt sober and clear-headed. "I just need to get some sleep, and I'll be fine," she said, reaching into a drawer to pull out some socks. Her toes were freezing. Also, since she was obviously getting ready to sleep, she hoped Emily would take the hint and go home. After all, Amy understood well now that her sister knew the full story behind her relationship with Sheldon, she was going to want to spend hours dissecting everything. As much as Amy enjoyed using a scalpel as a neurobiologist, she had no interest in taking part in Emily's relationship autopsy. There wasn't enough wine in the world to act as an anesthetic for that.

"So, what are you wearing to the dinner tonight?" Emily asked, stepping inside the room.

_Fudge!_ Amy looked up at her sister in a near panic. She'd forgotten about dinner with her family tonight. _Oh the horror!_ "Please don't say I still have to go to that. I don't have the strength."

"You don't have a choice, Amy. You know that. It's mandatory. Besides, I already told everyone you're coming."

Amy groaned and slumped down on her bed, holding the flannel nightgown against her naked chest. "Tell them I'm sick."

"They'll know I'm lying. Then, they'll make me tell them the truth, which means Harper will find out that you broke up with your boyfriend. Is that what you want? Her wedding is next week. You think she's gonna let news like that slide without throwing it in your face?"

Burying her face in the flannel, Amy shook her head in denial.

"All right then. Dooley's back and on his way upstairs. Get dressed. We have to go in ten minutes if we are going to make it home on time."

"Ten minutes? Why?" Amy shot up from the bed, her wet hair slapping against her bare back. "I'll never be able to be ready in ten minutes. I haven't even dried my hair yet. Besides, it's only three in the afternoon."

Emily frowned. "Yeah, and it's a two-hour drive to Mom and Dad's house. Plus, I've got to get ready myself and make sure the kids get ready, too. You're also forgetting Mom is going to want us there early to help get everything set up."

"You go ahead," Amy said, her mind coming up with a pretty brilliant plan. "I'll catch up."

Her sister cocked a suspicious eyebrow at her. "Who do you think you're talking to? I wasn't born yesterday, missy. You might be smarter than me, but I am infinitely more cunning and I'm the mother of two children who have written the book on ingenuity. Besides, you've had way too much wine to be driving yourself anyway." She tapped a finger against her chin. "I know! I'll leave Dooley here, and he can drive you."

"Doesn't he have to get ready as well?" Amy pointed out, aware that she was grasping at straws at this point, but too desperate to care.

Emily shrugged. "I'll get his suit ready. He'll be fine. Men don't need a lot of time. Just don't forget to get your hair out of your face and to wear makeup. Otherwise, you know Mom will complain."

There was a knock at the door.

"That'll be Dooley," Emily said. "I'll let him know the plan. Hurry up and get ready."

She shut the bedroom door behind her before Amy could reply. She slumped back on the bed again, her hand fisting tightly in the fabric of the nightgown she was holding until her fingers began to ache. _I broke up with my boyfriend. I'm heartbroken, slightly drunk, and now I have to have dinner with my family._

"Oh, crap," she said. "I'm going to be an alcoholic before this is over with."

—**TMR—**

"Well done, Dr. Cooper," Dr. Gablehauser said, reaching forward to shake Sheldon's hand.

Sheldon didn't even look up as he made his way out of the auditorium where he'd just helped Kripke give their presentation for the grant. His work obligations were over with, and he had other things to do before he went to see Amy tonight. The last thing he needed was to be sidelined by Gablehauser spouting facts he already knew.

"Dr. Cooper?" Gablehauser called as Sheldon sprinted away.

"He's working on something pretty important, sir," he heard Leonard say as he made it to the door. "He's been up all night working on it."

Sheldon didn't hear the rest of Leonard's lies. Or maybe they weren't lies. After all, he had been up all night trying to come up with the right way to approach Amy. He'd garnered advice from as many sources as he could. The internet, Leonard, his mother, Meemaw, and even Penny. They all seemed to come to the same conclusion: Apologize. Sheldon had rolled his eyes each time—well except with Meemaw. No one rolled their eyes at Meemaw (even if they were on the phone with her)—because the fact that he should apologize had been apparent to him from the time he'd made it home last night. After all, Amy had said she wanted nothing more than a real apology. He was going to give her what she wanted. His real conundrum was what to say beyond that so Amy would know he was sincere when he said he willing to do anything in order to get her back.

"Do you even know why you're apologizing?" Penny has asked when he said that.

"I hurt her feelings," Sheldon had replied.

"You hurt her feelings by doing what?"

"I lied to Kripke about our bedroom activities. And, even though I did not directly lie to Kripke in the beginning, I can admit now that not correcting him in his assumptions about my relationship with Amy was lying as well."

"You finally got that, huh?" Penny had said.

Sheldon had nodded. "Indeed. Amy made her point quite well on that."

Now, all these many hours later, he was standing in his office, packing up his stuff and readying himself to leave. He remembered how Amy had made her point about omissions being the same as lies. How could he ever forget that?

His girlfriend was smarter than he was. That fact should have bothered him or, at the very least, left him feeling emasculated and unsure of himself. But it didn't. If anything, it made him more fascinated by her than he'd ever been. It also stirred something within him that couldn't be calmed. It was arousal—not just sexual, but, more importantly, cerebral. Amy Farrah Fowler was a puzzle, and there was not a time in his life when she wasn't going to keep him on his toes. Instead of being frustrated or worried about this, he was energized, excited, and eager to get started.

Sheldon couldn't wait to see her again. He would do anything to get her back, and he had a short window of time to get it done. Two days before they were officially broken up. No time to lose.

"Why are you weaving? It's onwy thwee in the afternoon," Kripke said, coming into his office. "Gabwehauser and da othews awe weady to cewebrate. We're a shoe-in for the gwant money, for suwe."

Sheldon didn't look up as he powered down his laptop and shoved it into his bag. He also didn't waste time on replying to Kripke. Grabbing the last of his stuff, he marched towards the door. He had to find Leonard and get him to take him to Amy's. He looked at his watch. 3:05 pm. No doubt, she was still at work. That gave him a few hours to get his plan in action.

Kripke grabbed his arm to get his attention. Sheldon stopped and stared down at the offending hold on his person. Kripke released him and gave an uneasy grin. "What's da rush? Wet me guess: Youwre girwfriend forgave you and is weady to hawe makeup sex?"

Something cracked inside of him. Without thought, Sheldon slammed his fist into Kripke's face, dropping him to the floor in a matter of seconds. He stepped up to him, using his impressive height to intimidate the man as he'd often seen his bullies do when he was younger.

It seemed to work as Kripke, holding his right eye, began scooting away on his butt as he stared up at Sheldon in shock. "What did you do that fow?"

Sheldon glared. "_That_ was for being disrespectful of my girlfriend. What happens in our relationship is none of your business, understand? If you speak of her in such a way again to me or anyone else, I'll thrash you within an inch of your life." He took a menacing step forward. "Got it? I'm from Texas, and I grew up with an older brother and seven older male cousins. I'm well acquainted with the art of thrashing someone."

He didn't wait for a response. Instead, he left his office and went in search Leonard. He had a date to keep. His time was running short.

Twenty-five minutes later, the two physicists were in the car and on their way to Amy's house.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Leonard asked.

"Yes. I have considered it from all angles. I have a 98 percent chance of this functioning properly, plus or minus 3 percent."

Leonard looked over at him as if he were insane. "You worked out an equation to tell you whether or not your girlfriend would accept your apology and take you back?"

Sheldon shrugged. "Everything in the world can be condensed into an equation. Surely you, as a physicist, know that?" He stared at his best friend for confirmation.

"OK." Leonard agreed with a shrug. "Mathematics aside, what is your backup plan?"

"Whatever it takes."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I have brought several back up plans taking in a variety of variables. I am sure one of them is going to work."

"But what happens if she won't listen?"

The mere thought of that left him paralyzed with fear. He closed his eyes and took a fortifying breath. It was the lone variable he couldn't overcome. _No, _he told himself._ It won't happen. You'll get her back._

He had a great imagination, always had, but he simply could not ponder a future for him without Amy in it. The idea of it pushed him toward a realm he was sure was close to insanity, but telling himself over and over again that he would get her back was what had kept him safe on the side of logic and reason.

"She will take me back. She has to do so." His voice brooked no argument on this quarter.

They pulled up to her apartment a few minutes later.

"Do you need me to come back to get you?" Leonard asked.

"Amy will bring me home, or I'll take the bus. I don't know how long this will take. I've never apologized like this before." Sheldon said, getting out of the car.

"But she won't be home from work for another two hours. Are you sure you want to be dropped off this early?"

"I need time to prepare and to practice. Besides, I have an extra key to her apartment. I'll let myself inside."

"She's not going to like that. Remember when we used Penny's spare key to go into her apartment without her permission to clean things up?"

Sheldon shivered at the memory. "I'll be fine. Factoring in her anger at my invasion of her privacy, I still have a 96 percent chance of achieving my objective, plus or minus 3 percent."

"But what if she—"

Sheldon knew his friend was trying to be helpful, but he was only succeeding in making Sheldon more nervous. "I assure you, I have considered every variable. I will be fine." He slammed the door. "I have no wish to talk to you about this anymore, Leonard. Go home."

He turned his back on his best friend and entered Amy's apartment building. It didn't matter what Leonard said. He was more than prepared to handle anything that came up. Sheldon would not fail. He wouldn't.

He couldn't.

Sheldon took the elevator to third floor and was getting off to go to her apartment when he heard her speak. His supreme hearing catalogued the divine sound of her voice and told him she was approximately ninety seconds from encountering him. _What was she doing home? Why wasn't she at work? This wasn't how it was supposed to go. _If she saw him now, everything would be ruined. Without thought, he jumped behind a large ficus tree located in a convenient corner away from the elevator.

He thanked genetics for providing him with a slim, tall body because he was able to hide himself completely in the plastic, lush_ ficus benjamina_ and was still able to see her though the leaves—which he noted were in need of a thorough dusting.

Amy was wearing the pink dress he'd seen the night she'd had Leonard take her to that wedding. Her sleek hair was pulled back in a strange, twisty bun, giving her usual friendly face a severe demeanor he didn't like. Moreover, she was wearing more makeup than he'd ever seen her don before. The cherry-colored gloss was evident even from his distance.

Where was she going dressed like that? He almost gave up his hiding place to ask her. But as he was about to reveal himself, she was joined by a dark-haired man who looked to be in his early forties. The stranger was tall and lanky like Sheldon, but his skin was tanned from too much time in the sun. He had what Penny would have called "Movie-star good looks" and was illogically wearing aviator sunglasses, even though he was clearly still inside a building.

_What is this?_ Reason fought for control._ Calm down. Maybe Mr. Movie Star lives in the building and just happens to be catching the elevator at the same time as Amy._

This theory was blown out of the water the second the George Clooney wannabe put his hulking hand around Amy's waist and brushed a kiss against her temple.

"Don't worry, Amy. I won't let anything happen to you," the man assured her. "Tonight's gonna be fun. With me, you know it's bound to be."

Amy gave him a small smile.

Sheldon felt like someone punched him in the stomach. The world around him turned scarlet as his hands fisted at his sides.

The elevator dinged and the two stepped inside. Two seconds later, they were gone. Sheldon blinked and stumbled out of his hiding spot.

Amy was going on a date. With someone else. Amy was dating someone else. It couldn't be. But there it was. He'd seen it with his own eyes. He looked down at the bag wrapped around his midsection. All of his plans for tonight were ruined. He thought he'd considered every variable.

A cackling, little voice laughed gleefully in his head. _Not this one, you didn't._ His lungs were closing in on him. It became a battle to breathe.

The smile she'd given the guy replayed in Sheldon's mind. _That's my smile_. My _smile. My Amy. My woman. Mine. Mine. Mine._

Something must be done. He didn't know what, but he knew something had to be done and soon before Amy allowed that obvious Neanderthal to do something worse to her. _Like hold her hand or kiss her on the lips or_ … His brain stuttered. _Or have coitus. _

_No! Not happening. How could she do this to me? She just broke up with me yesterday. How can she already be seeing someone else?_ The voice in his head was more than willing to provide the answer.

_She's smart, she's clever, and she's beautiful. Did you expect her to wait around on you forever? No woman is that patient. You were lucky to have her for as long as you did. Did you think no other man would notice what a gem she is and snatch her up?_

Filled with more emotions than he could name, Sheldon whirled and marched towards her apartment. This was not to be tolerated. _Something must be done. She's still mine. Legally, she's still mine. _

He growled, "I keep what is mine."

His mother's voice rang in his ear over and over until his mind began to formulate a plan. _She's the one. Make her listen. Do whatever you gotta do, but you get her back. _

Sheldon knew this new plan was desperate and irrational and illegal. An hour ago, he would never have considered such a thing. But, then again, an hour ago Amy wasn't dating someone else. _Desperate times call for desperate measures_, he decided as he turned the corner and let himself into his girlfriend's apartment. _Whatever it takes._

The dark line between sanity and insanity blurred more with every step he took, but Sheldon couldn't summon the energy to care.

* * *

**A/N: More on the way soon. Thanks for all the reviews. You guys are the flags in my fun. : )**


	12. Lost in Austen

**Chapter Twelve: Lost in Austen**

Looking back, Amy should have just stayed home. That, at least, would have saved Harper's dress from ruin—not to mention her mother's dinner party and her father's award-winning roses.

Then again, after the hellish night she'd been forced to endure, Amy was ready to admit that maybe everyone deserved exactly what they got. Of course, that could just be the alcohol talking.

It had all started out innocuous enough. She and Dooley had a pleasant ride to Orange County, discussing the latest exploits of his children as well as an amusing anecdote he shared involving a pair of overly amorous clients who accidentally became trapped in the bathroom when they tried to join the mile-high club mid-flight.

At no time did her brother-in-law bring up Sheldon or her less than _de rigeur_ behavior in the Tweety Bird sleep shirt, and, for that, she was exceedingly grateful. Emily called twice under the guise of checking their journey's progress, but Amy knew she was really just checking to make sure that, one, her sister was actually coming, and two, she was really all right.

Amy was proud of how calm and collected she was. Sheldon, of course, was still in the back of her mind, but she was confident she would be able to keep her heartbreak in check for the remainder of the evening. After all, this night was about Harper and, while time spent with her family usually was an exercise in patience and endurance, Amy knew she could keep it together long enough to deal with anything they had to throw at her.

Later, she realized she should have known better.

The issues started the second she crossed the threshold of her parents' four-bedroom, two bath suburban white colonial that had shutters so brown they could have been painted with a melted Hershey bar. The combined scent of old books, Chanel No. 5, and disappointment invaded her nose, reminding Amy of why she so rarely came home. It was always such a trial of endurance.

Dooley quickly excused himself to go get ready. Her mother, who had donned a beige shell dress with a matching tweed jacket and Mary Jane heels, didn't greet her daughter as she ushered her into the living room. Instead, she fingered the thin strand of pearls around her neck and assessed Amy's appearance with a critical eye.

"Pink? That's such a … youthful … color choice, Amy. After all, you _are_ in your thirties now."

Amy, of course, rallied back with her usual change-the-subject ploy. Sometimes it worked. Most often, it didn't. "Hello, Mother. How are you this evening?"

"Fine. Thank you." She tapped a finger against her chin. "You know, black is a slimming color. Your Aunt Agatha, who—like you—is blessed with those generous Fowler hips, wore a black dress at the last family reunion, and I was sure she'd lost ten pounds. It's remarkable what a simple color change can do to disguise one's flaws."

Amy gritted her teeth and looked around the living room, searching desperately for a new topic. "Has Harper's fiancé' gotten here? I haven't met Bruce yet, and I'm also eager to meet his parents." _Especially if it means I don't have to keep listening to you go on about what I'm wearing._

"Not yet. They're not expected for another hour or so." Her mother circled her, thinning her lips in disapproval. "I'm glad to see that you took my advice about keeping your hair out of your face, but why didn't you wear the combs I got you for your birthday? They give you such a pleasing countenance." She tsked. "You have beautiful eyes if you'd only show them off."

Amy used her beautiful eyes to note her mother's shoulder-length, coffee-colored hair that was currently being held back on each side by a set of combs and gave a slight shudder of disgust. "Do you need any help with the food? I could chop something if you like."

"No need. I brought in Jeanette to help for the evening," her mother replied before her silvery eyes zeroed in on Amy's lips. "I've never seen lipstick quite that color before—at least not on a woman who wasn't playing a hooker on television. I must say, it does nothing for your complexion. You don't wear it around Sheldon, do you?"

"Kindly cease your torment of our daughter, Evelyn. I think she looks quite pretty," a succinct, British accent uttered from the den. A few moments later, a tall, thin man with a balding head, thick gray eyebrows, and sparkling green eyes joined them. He didn't bother to stop until he had both arms wrapped around Amy. "Hullo, angel."

Amy smiled at the nickname her father used for all of his daughters and leaned into the hug. "Hello, Dad."

"It's been far too long since I saw you. I know your mother is a trial, but why punish me, too?"

"Charles," Evelyn huffed, offended.

He winked at his wife. "Well, you are, my dear. One of these days you are going to realize that Amy dresses just like you do. Conservative and classy. Just leave her be." He stepped away from his daughter, looking pointedly behind her. "Where's Sheldon? I was hoping to finally meet this physicist boyfriend of yours."

Amy gave a silent thank-you to Emily for not spilling the beans about her break-up. She wasn't ready to even begin to think about how to deal with that. "He had work to finish up. He's been paired with another physicist on an important grant proposal. If they succeed, that will mean a hundred thousand dollars for Caltech."

"Emily said he isn't attending the wedding either," her father said, totally ignoring the news she'd been trying to impress him with. "Is he purposely trying to avoid me?"

"Of course not. I told you. He's just really busy," she replied.

He frowned a moment before breaking into a wide smile. "Tell your young man he can't avoid me forever. I'm going to need to meet him sooner or later." His back straightened with unabashed male pride. "After all, I need to see if he's up to scratch for my angel."

A stab of pain ricocheted in her chest. She plastered a smile to try to cover up her discomfort.

"Oh, Dad," Emily said, coming down the stairs. "Has anyone ever been deemed good enough?"

He gave a boisterous chuckle. "Not hardly. But it's still a jolly laugh to try to scare them off. Helps to separate the men from the boys, if you will. My favorite victim was Dooley. I thought he was going to faint when I brought out your grandfather Fowler's service revolver for cleaning. "

"And yet, he survived the experience and married me anyway." Emily patted her father's cheek.

"Indeed," Charles said. "A stout fellow, our Dooley. I must admit Bruce Foster wasn't nearly as much fun. I'm not sure that boy is incredibly bright. I think most of my threats went right over his head. Honestly, as a father, it was quite disappointing."

"Harper _is_ a lucky woman," Amy couldn't help but add. Maybe it was the heartbreak talking, but the idea that her annoying little sister was marrying a complete idiot somehow made her feel better.

"Indeed she is," her mother agreed, overlooking Amy's obvious sarcasm so acutely that Amy found herself suddenly missing her ex-boyfriend. "It also doesn't hurt that Bruce is the Vice President for Internet Sales at his father's company." Her voice lowered to a theatrical whisper. "He makes six figures a year and drives a BMW."

It was at times like these that Amy felt like she was trapped in a Jane Austen novel. In this case, _Pride and Prejudice_. Her parents were most assuredly the Bennetts; Emily was Elizabeth; Dooley was Darcy; Harper, with her flighty nature, was definitely Lydia; and it was Amy's hope that Bruce would turn out to have more than a little Wickham in him. She hated how petty thinking that made her feel, but seeing as she was beginning to believe _she_ was middle sister Mary Bennett—the studious spinster destined to never marry and live out the rest of her existence pathetic and alone—she was able to throw off any residual guilt.

Sheldon, with all his rules and fussy nature was definitely a Darcy. _Nope_, she thought, _not going there._

Emily rolled her eyes at their mother's bragging and turned to her sister. "You look nice. Pink really suits you."

"Thanks," Amy replied. "You look beautiful yourself."

This, of course, was an understatement. Emily looked, in a word, exquisite. Her sleeveless, emerald cocktail dress was a throwback from the 1950's and was paired seamlessly with black wedge heels and a simple gold cross necklace. Even her sensible, I'm-a-mother-so-don't-judge-me hair looked gorgeous as it was pulled into a glossy, low ponytail.

"Aunt Amy!"

All eyes turned to the top of the staircase. A whirlwind flew down the steps, coming to rest mere inches from where Amy stood. A girl of eleven adorned in a yellow sundress covered in a lavender button-up sweater and a pair of green slippers smiled up at her. "I've been waiting all morning for you to get here. I wanted to show you what I found outside. It was a dead squirrel without any marks or bruising which would suggest a cause of death by predator. I performed an autopsy, but—"

"Lillian, that is not proper dinner conversation." Amy's mother interrupted.

"But we're not at dinner yet, Nana," the girl pointed out. "We're standing in the living room."

Amy came to her niece's rescue before a full-blown issue started. "Lily, you can tell me all about your findings after dinner."

The girl's green eyes glittered with an enthusiasm and scientific curiosity Amy knew quite well. "I wrote up a full report. I've got a copy for you upstairs."

"I look forward to reading it," Amy said with a stoic nod of pride.

"Well, I'm one lucky chap," Charles Fowler stated. "I'm surrounded by beautiful women." He leaned down to his granddaughter. "Especially you, young lady. You look rather fetching."

Lily reached up to touch the lavender headband which had pushed her brown hair out of her eyes. "Thanks, Granddad. I had a red purse, but Nana said it clashed. The world is awash in color all the time. Why can't I be as well? How can a rainbow ever clash with anything?"

As Amy had often pondered this herself whenever her mother criticized her fashion choices, she shrugged and said, "Maybe you should save it for the wedding. It would look great with your flower girl dress."

"Her dress is peach. Red does not go with peach. Anyone with half a brain knows this. Duh!"

They all turned to see a tall, thin blonde beauty descend the stairs. Her hair was pulled back in a dignified chignon. Her cream-colored strapless dress ended mid-knee and highlighted her sun-kissed skin and white strappy heels. It might have made her look innocently bridal if it hadn't also pushed her ample bosom so skyward that Amy was sure astronauts on the space station would be able to see them.

"Hi, Harper," Amy said.

Her sister's nose scrunched a little at the end like she'd just smelled poop on her shoe. "Hi, Amy." She caught a meaningful look from their father and threw her sister a wide, fake smile. "Good to see you. Thanks for coming."

"Harper," their mother intoned. "We agreed I would buy that dress if you wore the matching jacket. That neckline isn't ladylike."

Harper shrugged. "Who says I'm a lady? I'm getting married in a week. I should be able to wear what I want. Besides, it's too hot for a jacket. Do you want me to perspire in front of my in-laws? Duh!"

Amy found it fascinating that, no matter how old her sister got, she never stopped talking like a teenager. Then again, as she was a twenty-six-year-old still living at home with her parents, Amy supposed she shouldn't be too surprised.

"You live in our house; you will follow our rules," Evelyn pointed out.

"But, Mommy—"

"Harper," Charles said, his voice authoritative and direct. He was a jolly man usually, but when he used that tone, no one dared gainsay him.

Her delicate shoulders slumped. "Yes, Daddy. I'll go get it."

The pause that had overcome the room when Charles spoke was gone the second Harper disappeared back upstairs.

"Where's Mike?" Amy asked, looking around for her nephew.

"He's upstairs with his father getting his pants ironed. I told Dooley if I had to iron those suckers again because that boy can't keep himself from rolling around like a boulder, I was going to kill him. Why can't he just sit down and be still for five seconds?" Emily complained.

"Welcome to having teenagers," Charles said with a grin. "Wait until Lily gets there."

Lily frowned. "I have no interest in riding skateboards, playing video games, chasing members of the opposite sex or hitting small, white balls with metal bats. I have important work to get done. If I'm going to be a forensic anthropologist by the time I'm twenty-one, I have to make every minute count. In fact, after completing the autopsy on the—"

Amy's mother held up her hands. "Lily, please don't get into that again. We know you skipped two grades this year and we're proud of you, but if I have to hear about the insides of that squirrel one more time, I'm going to forget I'm a lady and scream." She patted her clearly frustrated granddaughter on the head and turned to her daughters. "Amy, you and Emily come with me into the kitchen. I have some last minute things you can help me and Jeanette with. Lily, you stay here and keep your granddad entertained. Charles, make sure Harper comes down wearing all of her clothes and answer the door when you hear it. The Fosters should be here within the next half hour or so."

Charles gave a swift salute to his forehead, palm faced outward. "Yes, ma'am!" Then, with a wink, he turned to Lily and said, "Come now. Let's have a chat. Have I told you about the prize I won at the Orange County Rose Cotillion?"

Lily sighed. "Yes, Granddad. You did. You had the most vibrant petals they'd ever seen."

Amy wanted to feel sorry for her niece, but she was too busy feeling sorry for herself. After all, she would rather hear all about the exploits of her father's roses than deal with her mother.

The second they were in the kitchen, Evelyn handed Amy a paper towel. "Here," she said.

"What is this for?"

"Lipstick. Wipe it off. There is no way you're wearing that during my dinner party. The Fosters will be here. Everything has to be perfect," her mother said. "Then, you can tell me what is going on with Sheldon that he can't be bothered to meet his girlfriend's parents ... again."

_Oh yeah,_ Amy thought. _Roses are infinitely better than this._

—**TMR—**

Amy was dying to go home. She'd spent fifteen long minutes in a kitchen with her mother, who had the interrogation skills of a prisoner of war camp boss. But Amy didn't crack. Emily did, though, and declared that she had to go check on Mike after the first five minutes. With her sister gone and no one standing between Evelyn and Amy but the plump cook Jeanette, Amy had to use every tool in her arsenal to combat her mother.

"Is he getting tired of you?"

Amy picked up an onion and began chopping it into little pieces. "No."

"It wouldn't surprise me if he did. No man will buy the cow when he's getting the milk for free. In fact, pretty soon, he'll stop wanting the milk altogether. Have I told you how disappointed I am that you would give up your innocence to a man who isn't your husband?"

Amy closed her eyes. She should have told the truth about her and Sheldon a long time ago, but she'd never been able to make herself do it. First because it annoyed her mother to no end—which was always a good thing—and, later, because she'd hoped the lies she and Sheldon had told Evelyn over Skype would one day prove true. Now, it just hammered home how much it never would. "You wanted me to find someone, Mother. How many times have you said that to me? Well, I found someone. I found Sheldon and, together, we found the bed."

Seeing her mother's jaw drop should have delighted her, but somehow, it didn't. When she was finished mincing the onion into barely discernible bits, she took out her frustration on the asparagus.

"I don't need those chopped, dear," Jeanette whispered, saving the green stalks from the wrath of Amy's blade.

Amy glared at her like a child who'd been denied a toy. The gray-haired Jeanette offered a tomato instead, which she gratefully took.

"I've never said anything to your father about that, Amy," Evelyn said. "He wouldn't be as understanding as I have been, but—"

"Why do you always hold me to a higher standard than you do Emily and Harper?" Amy asked. "Emily had sex in high school, and Bruce is Harper's second fiancé and probably her tenth lover. Why pick on me?"

Evelyn paled and turned to Jeanette. "Can you excuse us for a minute?"

"Sure," the woman replied, stirring a few pots on the stove before she exited the kitchen.

Amy had finished with the tomato and started on another. Evelyn reached over and took the knife from her. Then, laying her palms on top of Amy's hands, she said, "You're different. You always have been. I knew it when I held you for the first time. I could see it in your eyes. You're meant for great things, Amy, and I want those things for you. I will do anything I can to help you achieve them—even if it means I have to fight against you." She sighed. "You've always been so perfect. You had the perfect grades, the perfect temperament, and the perfect personality. You're honest, direct, loving and so intelligent."

Amy finally looked up at her mother. "But still not good enough, am I? I'm not perfect until I'm wearing the right clothes with the right hair and the right man, correct?"

Evelyn flinched. "You've never needed anyone, Amy. You came out of me so independent and strong. I still remember back when I dropped you off at pre-school. Emily and Harper cried and begged me not to leave. But not you. I had barely dropped you off and you were already pushing me out the door like you couldn't wait to be rid of me. I've watched you. If you could, you would remain alone for your entire life—existing in a world of monkeys and science. There is more to life than that. There are best friends and boyfriends and weddings and children."

"And you think I don't have that? I have a best friend, Mother. Her name is Penny, and I have another friend. Her name is Bernadette. And, I have Sheldon." She closed her eyes against the pain welling up inside her. _I had Sheldon._ _Then again, maybe I never really did after all._

"He isn't the one for you. You deserve the right man. I won't apologize for wanting that for you. You're destined for great things. You need a man beside you who can understand and support that. Sheldon, as much as you obviously care for him, isn't that man. No man who says what he said to me can be the right man. He has no manners. He's proven that time and again."

She glanced up to glare at her mother. "How would you know? You've only spoken to him the one time."

"Exactly! You've been together over three years. A gentleman who had honorable intentions towards my daughter would have made a point of coming to see us. He would have come here with you this evening. He would jump at the chance to escort you to Harper's wedding. He wouldn't let work get in the way. Instead, Sheldon is more concerned about his own career and interests than you."

"You don't know what you're talking about. You don't know Sheldon."

"I know he doesn't love you. He doesn't respect you. He doesn't deserve you, Amy."

Amy snatched her hands back and moved away. It felt like a wound inside of her had just been ripped open and acid poured inside. It took all she had not to scream, hit, or cry. In the end, she just stared at her mother and calmly said, "I'm going to take a walk. I'll return shortly for dinner."

"Amy—" Evelyn began.

"If you mention Sheldon again, I promise you that I will leave and not come back … ever."

Evelyn's jaw fell open and then quickly slammed shut. The blood rushing to her cheeks showed how much she was aware of the damage she'd done, even though Amy knew her pain wasn't so much from what her mother had said, but by the fact of how spot-on she'd been in saying it. Hadn't that been why she'd dumped him in the first place? She turned to leave the kitchen before anything else could be said. She couldn't bear any more.

An hour later, she returned to the house, not better, but definitely calmer. The guests had arrived and dinner was beginning to be served. She was chided by her father for her absence and was forced to take the only empty seat next to her mother.

There were plenty of new faces at the table. Unfortunately, Harper's fiancé proved to lack any interesting, Wickham-like qualities. Where Austen's villain was a charming, roguish "bad boy" who made all the girls swoon, Bruce was an oafish, red-headed man who seemed to have more freckles and money than sense. Then, there were the Fosters, his equally materialistic and ridiculous parents, who made jokes that weren't funny and couldn't stop nodding to her father and saying "Cheerio!" for no reason whatsoever.

Emily, Dooley and their children were seated at one end of the table with her father—an end that Amy had mentally begun calling the "fun side" while she, Harper, Bruce, the Fosters and her mother were at the other end, which Amy silently referred to as "the seventh circle of hell." The first hour consisted of nothing more than talk of the upcoming wedding and all the plans made.

"The bridesmaids' dresses you chose are really beautiful, Harper," Mrs. Foster commented.

"We're still talking about adding shawls to those," Evelyn added, sending Harper an oh-yes-we-are glare when her daughter opened her mouth to argue. "It'll be too windy to go completely strapless."

"Emily doesn't mind strapless," Harper pouted.

"What about you, Amy?" Mrs. Foster asked. "Do you mind?" Her eyes slide over Amy's outfit. "You strike me as a … conservative … dresser."

She smiled tightly. "It doesn't matter what I think. I'm not a bridesmaid."

Harper blushed guiltily and said, "She's going to play the harp before the ceremony starts. That's almost as important as a bridesmaid, and she can wear whatever she likes. Win-win!"

Amy kept her smile on her face throughout the rest of the wedding discussion. However, when the topic changed to Harper's current dress as well as how lovely she looked in general, it took everything Amy had not to roll her eyes. So, she focused her attention on the young couple instead, curious to see how they interacted together.

After five minutes of careful observation, Amy did not find pleasing results. Harper, as the center of attention, gushed and simpered and played to the crowd while Bruce seemed more interested in buttering his yeast roll than in talking to his soon-to-be bride.

_Why doesn't Mother go after Harper about her love life choices?_ Amy thought, gritting her teeth. It was obvious how wrongly-suited the couple were for each other. No doubt, they'd be divorced in a year. But every time Amy looked at her mother, she was smiling at the couple adoringly like it was a fairy tale coming true before her eyes. Amy remained silent and tried to concentrate on her food. Sitting beside her mother made this task difficult. She took it upon herself to limit Amy's portion sizes and restrict her access to the bread basket.

"Fowler hips," Evelyn reminded as she offered another yeast roll to Bruce.

As throwing a temper tantrum or storming out was not an option with company in the house, Amy did the only thing left for her to do: She drank wine—lots of it. Thankfully, as the wine changed with each of the seven courses her mother had planned, this was not a difficult thing to do.

With the hors d'oeuvres, they had a Merlot; with the cream of barley soup, they had a Pinot Noir; with the poached salmon, there was a nice Pinot Grigio; with filet mignon, it was back to red; and by the time they got to the sixth course of the evening, a cold asparagus vinaigrette, Amy didn't much care what she was drinking—only that her glass was kept full.

"Harper's name is so unique," Mrs. Foster said. "How did you come by it, Evelyn?"

Evelyn turned to look at her husband with a knowing smile. "Why don't you tell them, dear?"

Charles grinned as he revved up to tell one of his favorite stories. "All our girls are named the same way. Evelyn, as you know, is a librarian and has been a voracious reader ever since I met her. Therefore, she demanded we name each of our children after her favorite literary authors. Emily comes from Emily Bronte. Amy comes from Amy Lawrence Lowell, a Pulitzer Prize-winning poet. Harper, of course, comes from Harper Lee, author of _To Kill a Mockingbird_."

He gave a delighted laugh as he got ready to deliver the punch line he'd been using for longer than Amy could remember. "Since she gave them their first names, I got to decide their middle names. Since they are all my little angels, I named them after my favorite television show of all time."

"_Charlie's Angels_," Harper, Amy and Emily chorused, knowing the story by heart as well as their part in it.

Charles laughed. "Too right. Thus, we have Emily Kate, Amy Farrah, and Harper Jaclyn."

"Cheerio!" Mrs. Foster said with a chuckle.

"Cheerio!" Mr. Foster agreed, raising his wine glass in a mock toast. "We just named Bruce after my dad."

Amy rolled her eyes, but used his toast as an opportunity to drain her glass. She was getting sloppy drunk and didn't care one bit.

Mrs. Foster turned on her before she could get Jeanette's attention for a refill. "So, Amy, Harper is an administrative assistant, and Emily is a kindergarten teacher. What is it that you do?"

She stared over at the red-haired woman whose blue eyes reminded her of Sheldon and blinked, trying to focus. "Huh?"

"Amy's a neuroscientist," her mother interjected, seeming to finally notice her daughter's growing inebriation. She snatched away the wine glass and handed her a roll, ordering her to eat it before turning back to Mrs. Foster. "She's a genius and graduated from high school by the time she was fifteen. Her IQ is 190, you know."

Not one to look turn down a good yeast roll, Amy ripped into the bread and said, "I'm a neurobiologist. It's not the same as a neuroscientist."

"It's not? It sounds the same," Mr. Foster said.

Amy frowned at him. "Neuroscientists study the brain as a whole and how it connects with behavior. Neurobiologists study the brain on a strictly cellular and/or molecular scale, which means we have an infinitely better understanding on how the brain functions than neuroscientists do." She hiccupped and employed Harper's favorite phrase. "Duh."

"Amy!" Evelyn scolded. "Mind your manners, and eat some more bread."

Mrs. Foster, however, seemed too curious to be offended. "So you study the mind. How fascinating. What does that mean?"

"It means she plays with monkeys," Harper interjected with a giggle.

"It means," Amy answered as though her sister hadn't spoken, "I study the biological functions of the brain." She took another bite of her bread and propped her suddenly-heavy head on her hand. "For example, if I were to dissect Harper's brain, I'm sure I would probably find that her front cerebral cortex is stunted and that her corpus collusum is malfunctioning."

"What does that mean?" Mr. Foster asked.

"It means she's stupid," Amy snapped.

"Hey!" Harper snarled.

"Amy," her mother hissed.

Mrs. Foster laughed as though Amy had told the best joke ever. "You really _are_ a genius, aren't you? How fabulous. I've never seen one of those in person before. And your mother says you have a boyfriend who's a scientist as well?"

_Questions. Questions. So many questions. When will they end?_ It was all she could do to keep her head from swimming, and this woman would not cease her never-ending questions. She decided to use a line she'd seen Penny employ successfully on more than one occasion to shut people up. "What are you, a fucking cop?"

"Amy." This came from her father. He didn't yell her name. Then again, he didn't need to.

The room gave a violent swing, and Amy had to hang on to prevent herself from falling. She couldn't focus on Mrs. Foster across from her; so she focused on her father's prized petite, pink roses, which he'd cut from his garden and had placed as a centerpiece in the middle of the table. _Don't throw up. Don't throw up. Don't throw up._

"You all right?" Bruce asked next to her, grabbing her shoulder.

She snatched away from him, not liking the idea of a stranger touching her, but this made her dizziness and nausea worse. "I need to lie down," she said. She pushed her chair back and tried to stand up, but her knees refused to hold her. She grabbed the end of the table to steady herself and ended up knocking Bruce's wineglass over.

Directly onto Harper.

With a shrill scream, her sister flew up from her seat. "No! My beautiful dress!" But the damage was already done. Amy blinked, but the red smear of wine spreading across Harper's cream jacket only seemed to get larger. She groaned, trying to get to her to try to mop of the mess, but her knees proved unstable, and she began to fall. Then, suddenly, she was weightless and staring up at a smiling hunk of a man holding her in his arms. "Hi there, Dooley."

He didn't grin back, but he also didn't put her down. That was the most important thing.

"Hi, little sister. Let me take you upstairs so you can lie down."

"Goooood ideaaaa," she slurred.

"Yes, get her out of her before she ruins anything else. I told you not to invite her, Mommy," Harper said, snatching off her jacket before the wine could spread any further. "Do you see now, Emily, why I couldn't have her in the wedding? She'd mess up everything or bore us all to death with her talk of brains. Plus, the bridesmaid's dress would look terrible on her. We all know she doesn't have any boobs."

"Harper!" Her parents shouted in unison. "Enough."

Amy drunkenly looked at Dooley. "You're a good man, Darcy."

He frowned. "Thanks."

"Take her out of here," her father said.

And, with that, he carried her from the table. A crashing sound followed. Unfortunately, Amy still had hold of the table cloth and took most of the table with them, leaving a devastation of broken dishes, glass, cutlery, and splattered food in her wake. More of Harper's screams followed, along with gasps and groans from the other guests. Her mother was apologizing, her father was calming down Harper, Emily was trying to get Mike and Lily to stop laughing, and the Fosters were trying to clean food off their son's suit. Unable to deal with any of it, Amy buried her face in her brother-in-law's muscled chest and tried to ignore the rolling nausea in her stomach.

_Don't throw up on Dooley. _"I told Emily I shouldn't have come," she grumbled.

"You were right about that," he said, laying her across the bed in her old room that was now covered with more wedding paraphernalia than a bridal shoppe. "There. I'll get you a cold rag and a trash can. You're gonna want to hurl sooner or later. When you're feeling up to it, me and Em will take you home," he said.

He walked to the door, but her next question stopped him in his tracks. "Why can't a Darcy ever fall in love with a Mary?"

"Huh?"

"What's wrong with Mary? Sure, she's shy and she's not as pretty or as interesting as her other sisters and maybe her boobs are slightly smaller than average, but does that mean she should have to spend the rest of her life alone? No. She's the smart one. She's the studious one. She got an awesome pelvis that brings all the boys to the yard. Who knows? She might have a lot to offer a Darcy. But no, you Darcys always want an Elizabeth and you want to tell all your stupid work colleagues all about our non-existent sex life. Well, let me tell you, Darcy. You're really missing out on something special here."

Dooley sighed. "I'm not sure who Darcy is, but I am telling you right now, genius or not, that Sheldon guy is an idiot. You're good like you are. That's what I've always liked about you. Your confidence. You're always been happy to just be Amy. Don't let him take that away from you. Sooner or later, the right guy will come along."

Amy would have argued with him, but just then, the world swirled violently and everything faded to black.


	13. Into Darkness

**Chapter Thirteen: Into Darkness**

"Boy, you certainly know how to leave an impression."

"Em, shut up."

"_Totally_ thought Mom was going to have a stroke."

"_Totally_ want you to shut up."

"I can't believe Dad had to actually yell to get Harper to stop crying."

"Emily, shut up or I swear I'm going to vomit on you."

A blissful silence filled the car. Amy leaned one burning red cheek against the window, trying to cool it off. She couldn't believe she'd really said and done all that she had said and done tonight. It was so unlike her. Her parents were mortified, and so was she. There would be hell to pay all too soon in that quarter.

"You ruined Harper's dress."

The one bright spot of the evening. "Don't forget her shoes."

"I can't believe you threw up on them."

Amy smiled even as the stomach acid continued to burn in her throat. "She deserved it. I was leaving. I told her to get out of my way. It's her fault she decided to ignore my warning so she could stand there berating me at the top of her lungs. She should be grateful I vomited on her shoes instead of in her face. The temptation, I assure you, was great."

"Not your best moment."

"_Mike_ sure enjoyed it."

Emily grimaced. "He's thirteen. Of course he did. You'll be happy to know that you're my son's favorite aunt now. Just like Lily."

"Good. Harper's a bad role model for anyone." Amy rolled down the window, deciding to hang her head out so the air would blast her in the face. It was too hot in this car. Even now her stomach was rolling in protest. If she didn't cool down soon, she was going to vomit again, and she'd suffered through that indignity quite enough for the evening. "Thankfully, I'm now disinvited from the wedding and won't have to deal with our little sister until Thanksgiving."

"Mom and Dad won't stand for that. This is a family affair. We all have to be there. Just give them a few days to calm her down and smooth things out with the Fosters. The bachelorette party is tomorrow night, and the bridal shower is on Sunday. It might be best if you avoided both of those events."

"Gladly," Amy said, unwilling to admit she hadn't been invited to either in the first place.

Emily made the turn that told Amy they were only ten minutes from her apartment. She gave a grateful sigh. She yearned for a shower, some mouthwash, a few aspirin, and a cup of hot tea. However, given her sister's nonstop chatter on the long drive, silence would no doubt prove to be the most welcome part of being home.

"You know, Ames, if you tried, you'd see that Harper isn't really that bad. I don't know why you two can't get along."

"Maybe it's because she hates me. Maybe it's because she's a lazy, immature idiot and I don't mind pointing that out to her. Or, maybe it's because I don't choose to dote on her like everyone else. Take your pick. I know she's the youngest of the family, but you can't tell me her constant whining and baby talk doesn't get on your last nerve. If you didn't live so far away, you would dislike her as much as I do."

"No, I wouldn't. But then again, I'm more empathetic by nature than you."

Amy rolled her eyes. "You also left home early and didn't have to live with her like I did."

"You left home early too," Emily pointed out. "Look at it from her side. You try growing up in the shadow of sisters like us. Either I did it first or you came along and did it better. Then, we just went off and left her alone with the parents. She feels like there isn't any way left for her to make her mark on the world. I'm Ms. Congeniality and you're The Brain. What does that make her?"

"A spoiled brat in need of a spanking." Amy flinched as the unwelcome memory of Sheldon spanking her came to the surface. She forced it away. "So, I guess you aren't going to be bothering me for the next two days because you'll have your hands full with Harper?"

Emily smirked. "Is that an invitation for me to come over?"

"No. I'm going to spend the weekend cleaning the apartment from top to bottom."

"The heartbreak will still be there when you're finished."

"Shut. Up," Amy growled.

"Maybe you should call him. I never thought I'd see you fall in love with anyone. Maybe he's learned his lesson and will grovel at your feet."

Offended, Amy wrenched her head around so fast it made her dizzy. Still, she managed to hold her sister's gaze in a glare. "You're advising me to take back the man who told everyone he works with the intimate details of our sex life?"

Emily shrugged. "They were lies. Besides, from what you told me about Sheldon, it seems that if he was speaking about his bedroom exploits with you, it means he was one step closer to making them a reality. Didn't you say he was always bragging before about how he'd never have sex with anyone?"

"So?"

"So, you have a man who goes from proclaiming to anyone that he won't have sex ever to proclaiming that he's having sex with _you_. If you think about it, it's kind of flattering, and it certainly says a lot about how he sees you. It's like he's the sword in the stone and you're Arthur getting ready to pull it out," Emily said as she pulled up to the curb in front of Amy's apartment building. Dooley, who was following them in Amy's car, drove past them to go park in her assigned spot.

Amy looked over at her sister. "This isn't a fairy tale, Emily. He lied about me. Then, when I caught him, he refused to admit that he lied or apologize or make any kind of amends. He's the biggest, egotistical jerk I've ever known."

"And, yet, you're still in love with him," Emily murmured, her voice as whisper soft as their father's got when he was scolding someone. "You want some truth? OK. I'll give it to you." She turned in her seat to face her sister. "You're the only woman he's ever wanted to date before. You're the only woman he's ever asked to be his girlfriend. You're also the only woman he's tried to be intimate with."

"It was just a game of Dungeons and Dragons. He never even touched me," Amy said, looking away. _Oh God, I must have been drunk to have told her about that._

Emily reached out and pulled her sister around by the chin until their gazes were locked together. "Oh, he touched you all right. In more ways than one, I'm guessing. Let me give you some bigger truths. He's the first man you've ever shown more than a passing interest in. He's the only man you've ever respected and admired who wasn't our father or one of your professors. And, most of all, he's the only man who's ever had a chance in hell of being your equal. You think that comes along every day?"

Amy jerked out of her sister's grasp and turned to face the window so she could wipe away the moistness welling in her eyes. "It doesn't matter. I ended it. It's over, and now I have to go back to the way things were before I knew him." She took a deep breath and let it out before turning back to Emily. "Besides, I can't believe you're talking like this. He hurt one of your sisters. Shouldn't you be calling for his head to be on a pike or something?"

Emily faced forward, gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles whitened under the light from the post outside. Then, she looked back at Amy. "You can't even hate Sheldon; so why should I? I mean, sure, if I see him, I'm going to want to knee him in the groin for what he did to you. But that doesn't mean I still can't recognize when he's the right man for my sister."

Amy opened her mouth to disagree, but Emily held up a hand to stave her off. "I don't want to argue, Amy. I just want you to be happy. You're my sister, and I love you. I will always have your back—even if I'm in Boston married to a flyboy with two heathen children."

Amy swallowed the knot in her throat and nodded. "Thanks. I love you, too. And Mike and Lily aren't heathens. They're wonderful."

"I know." Emily laughed a moment before sobering. "Since I won't be able to see you much until the wedding, do me a favor."

"Name it."

"If you won't call Sheldon, call your friends. They'll be able to console you when I can't. Girlfriends always make heartbreak a little easier to swallow. And, for God's sake, have a girls' night out or something. It'll be good for you."

Amy flinched. "I'm never drinking another drop of alcohol in my life."

Her sister laughed once more. "Then invite them over and watch a movie or something. Just don't spend all your time alone."

Dooley tapped on the window to let them know it was time for Amy to get out and him to get in. Amy moved to open the car door, but Emily stopped her with a hug, which she enthusiastically returned.

"Love you, Ames," she whispered against her ear.

"Love you, too, Em."

"Call me on Monday. We'll have lunch. Lily's still angry she didn't get to go over the squirrel report with you. I bring her along. She'll be thrilled to see your lab again."

"All right."

Another knock sounded. Emily groaned and pulled away. "Men are so annoying."

Amy laughed for the first time all evening. "I couldn't agree more." Then, reaching over, she pulled the door handle and got out of the vehicle. The second her feet were under her, she felt wobbly and had to grab hold of the side of the car. Dooley took her by the elbow to help steady her.

"I thought you puked out most of the alcohol," he said.

"I thought I did, too," Amy groaned. After a second, however, her head felt decidedly less woozy and she stepped away from him. "I got it."

"Make sure she gets inside," Emily ordered her husband.

He nodded and took Amy again by the elbow. "Come on."

They made it to the front of the building and inside the main lobby when Amy tried to pull away again. "This is far enough. I can make it the rest of the way on my own," she said. "Plus, you all have a long drive ahead of you."

He shrugged, refused to release her elbow, and pressed the button for the elevator. "If there is one thing I've learned from being married to your sister, it is when she uses that particular tone she just used, it's better to obey. Otherwise, I won't like the consequences." He winked and threw back his wide shoulders to puff out his chest. "Besides, I'm a gentleman."

"A gentleman who fears his wife."

Dooley grinned and leaned down to murmur, "The smarter the gentleman, the more he fears the wrath of his wife." The elevator dinged, and the door opened. "Now, come on before I have to pick you up and carry you … again."

Amy shook her head in dismay, but still followed him into the elevator.

"Are you ever going to tell me who Darcy is? You kept calling me that."

She closed her eyes, mortified by her behavior all over again. "He's the handsome, rich hero from _Pride and Prejudice_, a novel by Jane Austen."

"And, let me guess, he falls in love with this Mary character you mentioned. Then, when he meets this girl Elizabeth, he dumps Mary for her?"

Amy shook her head. "Worse than that. He doesn't even notice her at all. He meets Elizabeth, Mary's older, wittier, and more beautiful sister, and falls in love with her. By the end of the book, he marries Elizabeth and they live happily ever after." The elevator door dinged again and opened. She exited and started walking towards her apartment.

But Dooley, with his long legs and clear mind, was more than able to keep up with her. "And what happens to Mary?"

Digging her keys out of her purse, Amy said, "She's a foolish spinster who spends the rest of her days living at home with her parents being ignored by men and mocked by all who know her."

They'd turned the final corner by the time Dooley made his reply. "Well, I'm not a big literary person or anything, but this Mary girl doesn't sound like you at all."

She smiled in gratitude over the point he was trying to make. "You're a good man, Dooley, but you'd have to read the book in order to understand what I was trying to say. I still appreciate the sentiment. You're my favorite brother-in-law."

"I'm your only brother-in-law. Well, until Harper marries Bruce next week."

"You'll still be my favorite. You'll always be my favorite."

He reached out as if to caress her cheek. On reflex, she flinched and jerked away, rushing to her door a little faster than she would have otherwise. She'd just fitted the key in the lock when she heard Dooley speak.

"Sorry," he said. "I forgot how much you're not a fan of touching."

"I'm getting better all the time. Good night, Dooley." She turned the key in the lock. It didn't want to turn like normal so she had to fiddle with it a bit before she could get the door unlocked. "Weird," she muttered as she pulled the key from the door and reached for the knob to open it.

"'Night."

Amy pushed open the door wide so she could step inside. Yet, the sorrow she heard in Dooley's voice made her turn back to him. She could see the sympathy for her in his brown eyes. "Goodnight," she said, reaching up to deliver a swift kiss to his cheek.

He gaped at her in surprise for a moment before his expression slowly changed to a grin. "I'll see you next week, Amy. You take care of yourself until then."

And with that, he executed a very gentleman-like bow, turned on heel, and left. Amy giggled at his theatrics and walked into her apartment. She flicked on the light switch and tossed her purse onto a nearby chair before collapsing against the closed door in relief. _Finally home._

"Do you realize how late it is?"

She jolted from the door as her eyes snapped open. There, sitting on her couch was Dr. Sheldon Cooper. She blinked, unsure if this was some kind of post-inebriated hallucination. He'd been in the back of her mind all evening. In fact, there had been many times that either something or someone had reminded her of him. A hallucination was certainly possible at this point. "Sheldon?"

He jumped to his feet, glaring at her. "I asked you a question. Do you realize how late it is, young lady?"

She actually started to look at her watch to tell him when she realized what she was doing. Then, she matched him glare for glare. _What is he doing here?_ "Do you realize you're in my apartment, young man?"

Stiffening as if he were offended, he crossed his arms over his thin chest and said, "Of course I do. I'm your boyfriend, and you gave me a key for emergencies. This was an emergency; so I used it. Now, what were you doing out past your bedtime? I've been worried sick."

"You're no longer my boyfriend, Sheldon. Therefore, you had no right to use that key. This is _my_ apartment. Why are you here?"

He yanked up his brown satchel and, digging through it, produced a folded piece of paper. Then, stalking around the small couch, he handed it to her. She took it and, unfolding it, found herself staring at the signed termination agreement she had handed him just yesterday. She looked up, bewildered. "Why are you showing me this?"

"Read the highlighted portion," he ordered.

She looked down again, her eyes running over the yellowed paragraph at the bottom.

_In addition to signing below, the initiator of this termination is duty bound to send official notice within three business days via certified mail. Unless and until this final obligation has been fulfilled and received by the non-initiator, all parties remain bound to the relationship agreement and all covenants housed therein._

At last she understood. This was Sheldon Cooper she was dealing with. Of course, he was going to want every "I" dotted and every "T" crossed. Still, his letting himself into her apartment was a bit extreme. She returned her gaze to him. "I mailed off the notice this afternoon, certified. You'll have it in your hands by Monday at the latest."

"And until that time, you are still my girlfriend legally."

She frowned, taking in the determined fire burning in his eyes when he said that. It made her feel pleased and uneasy at the same time. Pleased because he was still trying to claim her and that left a delicious thrill in her belly. Uneasy because she had never seen him quite like this before. "Is that what you're here to tell me?"

He took the few steps to close the distance between them, his arms folding behind his back like he was a general surveying a city he was about to lay siege to. His eyes ran over her, seeming to want to absorb in every detail of her. Finally, his mouth thinned into a grim line as he spoke, "You were cheating on me."

"Cheating on you?"

He nodded. "You break up with me on a Thursday and go out with some other man on a Friday, even though legally you are still mine. Then, if that isn't bad enough, you have the gall to kiss him right in front of me."

She opened her mouth to explain about Dooley, but then closed it just as quickly. There was a time when she owed the likes of Sheldon Cooper explanations. But that time was long past. She gave an indifferent shrug. "Just because you never wanted me to kiss _you_ doesn't mean other men will have the same problem. Dooley is a gentleman … unlike you."

He reared back as if she'd struck him. "_I'm_ a gentleman. I have always been a gentleman with you."

"You told Kripke we were having sex and then detailed how we were doing it. Then you allowed him to repeat your made-up tales all around Caltech, ruining my reputation a little more each day. Are _those _the actions of a gentleman?"

Sheldon bowed his head, a fierce blush heating his cheeks. "No, they're not. I'm not proud of myself, and I'm ready to apologize. I can admit I lied to him. I shouldn't have done it. I—"

It was like he was flaying her alive with every word he spoke. Amy knew she couldn't bear to go through this again. Sheldon was never truly going to understand what he'd done and, given the chance between his pride and her, he'd only do it again. She turned from him and faced the door. "I don't want to hear it. You had your chance, and you didn't take it."

"But I'm apologizing now."

"Yes, now that I've broken up with you. Well, you know what, Sheldon Cooper? I don't want your apology anymore." She tossed the paper at him. "What good will it do me? Will it make you respect me as you ought to have the whole time? Will it make you realize the harm you've caused me and my reputation? Will it undo that harm?"

There was a long pause before he murmured, "What do you want me to do? Name it, and I will do it. I'll do whatever I have to do to keep you."

She spun around, grabbing the handle of the door before she looked at him. "I want you to get out. Now." She tugged at the door, but it didn't open. Taking the knob in both hands, she twisted and pulled at it with all her might, but it remained closed.

"I'm not leaving, Amy. Not until you forgive me and agree to take me back. You don't understand now, but you will."

Amy jerked and pulled and jerked and pulled. The door would not budge. She pivoted and glared at him. "As soon as I get this door unjammed, you're going to leave."

He didn't look upset by the prospect. In fact, if anything, the fire in his eyes seemed to flame higher. "Oh, no. I'm not going anywhere. That door will stay closed as long as I need it to be so. Legally, you're still mine, and Sheldon Cooper always keeps what's his." His eyes roved over her again. "It's plain to see you still don't understand."

"What?" she asked, unable to believe what was going on here. She watched him as he moved around the couch and calmly took a seat, observing her as if he had all the time in the world. "You did something to my door so it won't open?"

He nodded.

"Fix it now."

He slowly shook his head. "Not until you listen to me. I have two days to make you see reason, and I am going to use them."

Amy collapsed against the door, her brain unable to process what was happening here. Surely he couldn't be serious. Surely this had to be some kind of joke or mistake. "What don't I understand, Sheldon? What exactly is your plan here?"

He shrugged. "I'm kidnapping you, of course."


	14. The Flaw in the Plan

**Chapter Fourteen: The Flaw in the Plan**

For the first time in Sheldon's life, he had to acknowledge that his inability to pick up on the subtleties of nonverbal cues was a deficiency. He'd always thought if he were ever granted a superpower, he would pick the speed of Flash or the bone claws of Wolverine. However, if someone asked him right now, he would have chosen telepathy. Anything to be able to know what was going on inside his girlfriend's mind.

He scoured her face and body, searching for anything that would give him the answers he sought. After the announcement of his plan, she'd become silent and still, her body resting against the door. Their eyes had met and held a moment after he spoke. He'd watched the blood drain from her face until she resembled a corpse. Then, with an enigmatic sigh, her head fell back against the door and she closed her eyes to him, almost as if she were trying to erase his presence from her apartment with nothing more than her brain. He didn't like how much this simple action hurt him, but it did.

The longer she stayed this way, the more he didn't like it. Sheldon fidgeted on the couch, trying to find a comfortable position. It was impossible. He wasn't sure how he'd ever managed to fall asleep here. But he had accidentally as he'd been waiting in the dark for her to return home. Thankfully, his Vulcan hearing had awakened him the second she tried to turn the key in the lock. _Or not so thankfully_, he thought bitterly as the memory of his girlfriend kissing another man replayed over and over in his head. _Remain calm. You have the situation firmly in hand now. She's yours and, thanks to careful planning, will remain so._

And, from the looks of things, he'd intervened in just the nick of time. Amy's hair was a mess and her clothing was disheveled. The large, pink rose decorating the top of her dress had wilted and was hanging dejectedly against her bosom. The top button on her magenta dress was undone, showing off the milky skin of one arched collar bone and offering a glimpse of the top swell of one breast. He wondered if that skin was as soft as it looked. Did the man she'd been with know the answer for that? Sheldon told himself it didn't matter. But it did. What had happened to her? What had she been doing to get in such a state? The smooth bun she'd worn out on her date now look like she'd walked through a wind tunnel. There was a riot of hair clumps and tendrils hanging about her cheeks even as her bobby pins fought to remain in her head. It was disconcerting and … arousing—if he was being honest.

What had happened on her date? She'd kissed the strange man on the cheek in front of him and that was bad enough. But did her rumpled appearance mean more had happened out of his sight? She wasn't wearing the cherry red lip gloss anymore, but he'd clearly noted it when he'd seen her leave. Had it worn off on its own throughout the course of the evening or had it been removed in a more lecherous way? Had Amy and the man—as Penny was fond of saying—"made out"?

Indignation and jealousy threatened to eat him alive. Amy shouldn't be making out with anyone and, if she absolutely had to do so, it should be with him and no one else. _Mine._ How could she not know this? _It doesn't matter. She's here now. She's yours, and before it's all over, she'll know that. You've thought of everything. The plan will triumph._

Sheldon pushed his outrage away and took in her small fists gripping the fabric gathered along her thigh. Was that a sign of fear, anger, or something else? He couldn't really tell. Everything about her body seemed tense, even her mauve eyelids. What did it all mean? He wasn't concerned that she would escape. She couldn't. He'd more than seen to that. After all, he'd had nine hours to carefully plot out each step, and he would succeed. He had to succeed.

Still, it would be nice to know what she was thinking so he could see how close to success he already was or if he was going to have to bring out the big guns, so to speak.

When he'd run out of patience trying to guess her thoughts, he rose from his seat and stepped around the couch again, intent on getting something soothe his own nerves if nothing else. "Would you like a hot beverage?" Sheldon offered. He certainly needed one. Without waiting for an answer, he entered her kitchen and began pulling out the necessary trappings to make his cup of tea along with one for her. _Chamomile. Yes, she'll like that._

"I would like this door opened," Amy said, her voice low and firm.

He couldn't see her from his position over the sink, but his ears told him she hadn't moved from the door. Sheldon filled the kettle and set it on the stove before he replied. "My apologies. That is not possible right now, Amy. You and I have not made up yet."

"Do you really think kidnapping me is going to make me take you back?" she countered. "This is illegal, Sheldon. You could go to jail."

"One has the right to do illegal things if it is for the greater good. For example, one can murder someone legally if they are doing it for self-defense or in the defense of someone else." He dropped a tea bag into an empty red mug and another in one that matched the color of her eyes. Then, he calmly waited on the water the boil. "The law also authorizes the detaining of individuals in emergency situations."

"This isn't an emergency situation."

There was a sound of rustling. Clothes brushing against skin, which signaled movement of some kind. Deduction: Amy was no longer near the door. This he took as a positive step. "It is. You're just too angry to think rationally. Once we have our discussion, you'll see and be grateful for my drastic actions." The kettle whistled, and he removed it from the stove. "Why don't you let me make you some tea? Have a seat on the couch, and we can begin our talk shortly."

"I don't want to talk to you." More rustling followed by the slight clink of keys. Deduction: Amy had picked up her purse.

"You didn't take your cell phone with you on your date. It was sitting on your bedside table when I arrived. Don't worry. It's in a safe place. You can have it back when we've ironed things out."

Silence. Then, the slight creak of a carpeted floorboard.

"The landline phone's gone too—along with your laptop. I think it's better to not have any distractions right now. Don't you?" he asked.

A soft curse. He ignored this as he set about pouring the hot water into the mugs and added the required accoutrements. Of course she was frustrated. He'd planned for that. When the steaming beverages were readied, he glided into the living room to find Amy studying the door. He set her mug on a coaster in front of the couch. Having a seat, he took a careful sip of his drink and waited for his girlfriend to accept the inevitable. She was a genius, smarter than him even, but even she could not win this game. He'd made sure of that. Some might call it cheating, but Sheldon didn't care. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

She walked over to the sofa, taking her seat on the opposite side of him. She stared down at the mug in front of her before reaching out to grab it. She brought it to her lips and took a long sip. There, he thought. I was right. Planning really does fix everything.

Returning the mug to its coaster, she cupped her hands on top of her knees and stared straight ahead. "Sheldon, let's consider this logically."

"Agreed," he said, glad to see she was calming down.

"I terminated our relationship."

"The termination notice is not effective until Monday. As this is Friday, this means I have two days to get you to recant your termination."

"You lied about me to Kripke. Two days won't fix that."

"I did lie. I apologize for that. You will be pleased to know I informed Kripke earlier this afternoon that he may no longer spread stories about you." _There, now she has to see that I am serious about this._

She turned to him, one brown eyebrow raised. "Did you tell him they were lies in the first place?"

Since he didn't have a good answer for that, he filled the time with drinking his tea until he could come up with a way around her.

"I see," Amy said, turning to look straight ahead again after a moment of long silence. "You have more than proven my point again. When it comes to our relationship, your pride and ego will always trump me. As I cannot abide by this, I can never accept you as my boyfriend. Thus, the termination of our former relationship stands." She stood. "Discussion over. Please leave now."

A fissure of fear streaked through him. Logic and reason squelched it. He had a plan. This was a negotiation. He'd made his first offer, and Amy had countered. If he got what he wanted right out of the gate, the game would have been over too quickly. This was Amy. She was going to be stubborn. It was one of the many things he respected about her. Besides, she was right. He hadn't admitted his lies to Kripke. If he absolutely had to do that to appease her, he would. But he would offer her something else first, something he knew she wanted far more than that.

Sheldon leaned forward to set his tea on the coffee table before turning to look at her. "I propose we set aside the pending termination and consent to a probationary relationship for ninety days. We'll leave this distasteful business with Kripke and agree to wipe the slate clean, if you will. I agree to treat you with the respect and admiration you deserve. In return, you agree to forgive me for my former transgressions and to allow me to show you that I have indeed learned my lesson."

"Sheldon—"

He held up his index finger to halt her. "As this probationary period will effectively pause our relationship agreement as well as all of its restrictions, I would be amenable to submit to more physical affection as proof of my willingness to appease you. I will take you on one date per week instead of one per month. At the end of each, I will allow you to kiss me for no shorter than ten Mississippis and no longer than fifteen Mississippis. At the end of three consecutive dates, I will," He closed his eyes briefly to hide his mortification, "agree to seven minutes in heaven culminating in second base. Furthermore, as a demonstration of good faith, I further agree to kiss you … tonight."

Amy observed all of this stoically. The only change he could record was the sharp intake of breath she'd made after he'd made his final offer. Then, she moved her head and looked at him. Slowly, she placed her palms down on the sofa between them. Shifting her weight onto her hands, she leaned in towards him until they were face to face. _Too close_, he thought, unconsciously easing back. She moved forward, taking up all the newly vacated space until she was practically on top of him. The heat from her body was uncomfortable and, at the same time, intoxicating. _Space. Need space._ He fought to keep his body still, going rigid even as she got closer to him. He could smell Chanel No. 5, roses, asparagus, yeast, wind, and wine, lots of wine. _What on earth had Amy done this evening?_

"You're going to kiss me?" she asked, her breath blowing over his face like a warm wind.

"You vomited this evening?" he blurted. _Had she been sick or something?_

"Yes," she said, with a small grin. "But you just agreed to kiss me anyway. Or, do you want to take your offer back? If so, you can open my door on your way out."

He gritted his teeth and tried to remember to breathe through his mouth. His mind raced to find a way around this. If he refused to kiss her, it would make the rest of his offer null as well. It would make him look like a maker of false promises and he couldn't be that person. It would ruin everything. All his planning … for nothing.

"I will kiss you," he said. "I'm a man of my word."

The wilted rose on her dress brushed his arm as she adjusted herself nearer to him. Their faces were mere inches apart. Their lips seemed even closer than that.

"Really?" she murmured, her gaze darting down to look at his mouth. "Get on with it then."

His heart hammered against his chest and sweat beaded along his top lip. He reached up to brush it away with his finger. Amy followed the action, her eyes never leaving his lips like she was a child about to be given free rein in a candy store. _Dear Lord_, he thought. His brain was in chaos. Part of him wanted very much to kiss her. It had been so long since he'd kissed her. He'd missed her. This bestial part of him wanted to lay her down on the couch, peeling away her dress and running his hands over her until he knew the texture of her skin by heart, until he knew the secrets of her body. This part wanted to sink into her, to brand her to him so she—and the world—would know to whom she belonged. It would be so easy. One kiss could take all of the horror of the last few days away and make it right again.

But a larger part of him was terrified. His constant fear of germs was intensified by the thought that the mouth he was contemplating fusing with his own had not so long ago been holding vomit and, even now, the remnants of stomach acid, leftover food, saliva, and a host of bacteria. _I can't—She can't really think I—How can I—_

"I will kiss you," he vowed, taking shallow breaths through his mouth, "as soon as you brush your teeth." He thought for a moment. "And gargle. Twice."

Her eyebrow arched again. "If you truly want me back, you'll kiss me anyway." Her head tilted, as if she were studying him. A light taunting smile played at the corners of her lips. "Think of this as a test, a test you need to pass if you want me to take you back."

He gulped hard. _Oh my God. She's serious. I don't have the strength for this._ "But—"

"I see," she said, a slight grimace crossed her features, erasing any humor in her expression. She looked away as she began to move back from him.

_No._ _Do whatever you have to do, remember? She's more important than germs. Besides, you have two bottles of Listerine in your bag. _His hands came up to firmly grip her shoulders. "Don't move." He took a deep breath through his nose, focusing on her face. His hands moved slowly up her neck until they were cupping her cheeks on either side of her face, his thumbs running lightly over her cheeks. _So soft._ "I'm going to kiss you. Now."

He stared up at her as he said this. She looked back at him, her green eyes widening. Slowly, he pulled her closer and closer, preparing to feel her supple lips touching his own.

"Wait," she yelped, jerking away from him. She stumbled back from the couch. It seemed to be a struggle for her to keep her feet under her. Then, she had her balance again. She closed her eyes again, holding her head in her hands. "I can't let you do that."

He sat up. "I promised you a kiss as a good faith effort. Therefore, I must deliver. Come here, Amy, and let me kiss you."

Her head shot up as she held out her hands to ward him off. "No. I don't know what game you're playing at, but I am not going to take you back, Sheldon Cooper. Mark my words. I don't care if you are willing to kiss me to pass a test. It changes nothing. Do you hear me? It changes nothing! You might be stubborn, but I am infinitely more so."

"No one is more stubborn than me."

He watched her hands fist at her sides. Her jaw, which had slackened at his comment, tightened until she was talking through her teeth. "Go home."

He met her glare with one of his own. "Not until you take me back. We'll be here talking all night if that is what needs to happen. Whatever it takes."

"No," she spat and marched off to her room, "we won't." The slam of the door greeted him a moment later, followed by the tell-tale signs of a lock shooting home.

After a few minutes, he heard a string of curses. He sighed and moved to stand by the bedroom door. "Amy, if you are trying to climb through the window onto the fire escape, you should know that I have nailed all the windows shut. I've thought of everything. No one is leaving here until we are done talking."

There was an outraged squeak. "I am done talking, Sheldon. I'm not coming out until you leave. It's way past your bedtime. Go home."

"No need. I have packed a few essentials in preparation of spending the weekend and informed Leonard via note that I will be at the university working on a project."

"More lies. You're getting good at that," she yelled. "I don't care what you say or what plans you've made. I'm not ever coming out."

He smirked. Surely she knew he'd already considered that. "You'll have to come out sooner or later. The kitchen is out here. You'll need to eat."

A clomp of footsteps was followed by the sound of a lock unlocking. _Deduction: I win._ _Thank God. She's coming to her senses at last. _He smiled and waited for her to appear.

She wrenched open the door about two inches. "You think you've won?"

He shrugged. "I told you. I've thought of everything."

She nodded slowly. "I see. Have you thought about the fact that there's only one bathroom in this apartment or that this sole bathroom resides within my bedroom?" Then, with a defiant smirk, she slammed the door in his face and, once more, shot the lock home.

_OK, _he admitted to himself._ Maybe I didn't think of _everything_ after all._

* * *

**A/N: I do need to make big apologies to my friend Pearl, whom I have left frustrated for the last fourteen chapters, who I—no doubt—truly frustrated in this chapter, and whom I fear I shall have to leave frustrated for a few more chapters still. **


	15. Spar Wars

**Chapter Fifteen: Spar Wars**

Under different circumstances, Sheldon spending the night in her apartment would have been heaven. Instead, it was closer to hell.

"You're being unreasonable."

"Me? You broke into my apartment, kidnapped me, and even let yourself into my bedroom after I specifically locked you out. Yet, you call me 'unreasonable'?"

"I didn't 'break in' to your apartment. I had a key, which you gave me. I may have kidnapped you—that is true—but it was only because you refused to take me back after I issued a well-rehearsed and perfectly acceptable apology, and I only let myself into your bedroom—"

"Which I had locked," she interjected.

"It was a basic push-button lock. Any first grader with a bobby pin could get through that. If you really wanted me out, you should have installed a keyed lock or a surface bolt."

"So _that_ would have kept you out?" she quipped sarcastically, "I'll make notes for next time."

He seemed to consider this for a moment. "No, it wouldn't. No lock has kept me from what I want since George Jr. padlocked my fourth-grade term paper on quantum gravity in Pop-Pop's old army foot locker after I told on him for getting into Daddy's chewing tobacco." He nodded almost to himself. "Now, as I was saying, I only let myself into your bedroom because the only bathroom in the apartment is in there. I needed to void my bladder and maintain my morning hygiene schedule. What would have had me do?"

"Go home?" she offered.

He rolled his eyes and waved her suggestion off. "Now you're being unreasonable and ridiculous. You are also forgetting that I did not bother you last evening. I even slept on your couch, much as it lacks adequate lumbar support and is too short to sufficiently accommodate my height without my developing a painful crick in my neck—which I have, by the way. I also made you breakfast this morning as well as a cup of your favorite hot tea."

Amy crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "You could have gone to sleep in your own bed. You only needed to go home. So, if you have a crick in your neck, it is your fault. As for breakfast, I hardly consider you pouring me a bowl of cereal and waking me up at the crack of dawn is enough for you to claim that you 'made me breakfast'. It would have been different if you had actually cooked."

His jaw dropped open. "It's Saturday, Amy. I always have cereal on Saturdays. You know this."

"And that," she said, punctuating her words by pointing a finger at him, "is the reason I can't accept your apology. You will always be the guy who thinks of his own needs first. It's not enough for me any longer. I need more. No, I demand more."

"I agree and I—"

"Save it, Sheldon. Your selfishness is also why this short-sighted plan of yours to force me to take you back isn't going to work."

His face creased with a frown before softening into a sorrowful expression. "I missed _Dr. Who_ for you," he murmured, looking down. Then, with a deep breath, he glanced back up at her, his eyes hardening in clear determination. "Short-sighted? I assure you, this plan will work. You're just being stubborn," He sighed and threw his shoulders out confidently, "but I am infinitely more so. I will succeed. You and I belong together."

She closed her eyes because, under different circumstances, she would have told herself his words were akin to a declaration of love. But now she knew different. Sheldon didn't have it in him to love anyone—not romantically. No doubt, he was merely trying to avoid all the change not having her in his life would cause.

"If you didn't have a finite time frame, you might well have succeeded, but you do. I only need to wait you out, and I will win. In fact, if this were a game of chess, I'd say this particular part of the conversation is 'check'."

His eyebrow raised in disdain. "You think you'll beat me? Woman, you are clearly forgetting the full depth of my intelligence."

"Which is shallow in comparison to mine—or did you forget?" she said, with a condescending shrug. "I can outwit you any day, physics boy."

He paused to look at her, head cocked to the side as if he were studying her. She'd expected her outburst to offend him. After all, the idea that anyone was smarter than him usually sent Sheldon over the edge. Instead, he seemed to be considering her words carefully.

"You actually think you can outwit me?" he finally asked, his voice gruff and low.

She nodded. "Any time. Any day."

"What are you willing to wager?"

"Wager?" she repeated, unsure what he meant.

"You have such utter confidence in your abilities. You should, as my father was apt to say, 'Put your money where your mouth is.'"

"I don't want money. I want you gone." _The sooner, the better_, she thought bitterly.

A flash of fear and hurt crossed his features. Her first instinct was to retract her words, but she held herself back. _Putting his feelings above my own is what got me in this mess in the first place._

The longer he stayed here, the more she was having a hard time coming up with reasons to maintain their break up. She was still angry, of course. After all he had done, who wouldn't be? But the longer this continued, the more her wall of anger was developing cracks. This morning, for example, when she'd awoken to find Sheldon standing over her in her bedroom, she had been startled. Then, when she realized he'd maneuvered his way past the locked door, she found herself unwillingly aroused by the idea that Sheldon wasn't going to let anything stand in the way of what he wanted. The longer she considered that, the more she started thinking about how arousing it was that he wanted her so desperately, that he was so unwilling to let her go. It was almost romantic. _Bordering on insane, of course. But still quite romantic. _How many times had she wished for him to exhibit this kind of fervor in their relationship? This kind of passion? And here it was.

The anger, the sense of betrayal, and common decency kept her from falling under his spell, but just barely. The more she thought about it, the more she realized she wasn't simply angry at him for what he'd done with Kripke or for not telling her about his new assistant. They were just indicators of the bigger problem that existed between them. She loved Sheldon. Completely, utterly, and without reserve, and no matter what she said, did, or achieved, he would never love her back that way. Moreover, as many times as he treated her kindly and politely, there were just as many times when he hurt her feelings for little reason beyond stubborn immaturity and selfishness. She deserved better, and no matter how much she might find herself reacting to his obvious vehemence to keep her at his side, she knew she couldn't continue in this uneven relationship any longer. Enough was enough.

In her time of reverie, Sheldon had risen from the table, taking the dishes from their breakfast with him. He filled her dishwasher and busied himself tidying her kitchen. She watched him, hating how much the swift economy of his actions spoke to her on a primal level. In so many ways, Sheldon was her equal. Emily was right about that. There were so many times—even during their first meeting—where something inside of her had seemed to scream. _Him. It's him_. Like they were two halves of a whole who had spent their entire lives trying to find each other and, at long last, had.

_But I'm the only one who feels that way._ That hurt the most. _Why can't he love me? Why can't he reach outside of himself and be what I need him to be for once? Why must I turn myself inside out for him while he does nothing for me? _

_No more._ She sighed. This wasn't a game. This was life. Real, blunt, unforgiving life and it was time to end this foolishness, once and for all.

"Sheldon, I think we should—"

"You want me to leave."

She shut up the second he spoke. He turned from the dishwasher and looked at her, his expression seeming to pierce through the armor she had been trying to build around herself. She nodded.

"Then you are going to have to outwit me."

She frowned. "How?"

"You want me to leave. I want you to take me back. Those are the stakes. You can do anything, say anything to me to get me to leave. If I leave, you win. In that same vein, I can do anything, say anything, to get you to take me back. If you do, I win."

"No rules other than that?" Having no rules felt scary and uninhibited at the same time.

"No rules other than that," he affirmed. "A simple contest utilizing only intelligence."

"I'm smarter than you," she pointed out.

"You think you're smarter than me because you scored higher on an IQ test. As you know, there is no accurate way of measuring intelligence. Therefore, it is just as possible that I'm smarter than you. What better way than this to find out once and for all?"

"And if I can get you to leave, you will accept the termination?"

"Agreed. If I get you to take me back, you will nullify the termination?"

"Agreed," she said, feeling more excited than she'd ever felt in her entire life. This was going to be the contest to end all contests. Winner take all. No stakes could be higher than this.

Crossing the kitchen to stand in front of her, Sheldon held out his hand, intent on sealing the bargain with a handshake. She took his hand, watching his face as he winced at the brief contact of their skin touching. The same old feeling of rejection surfaced, but she pushed it away. After all, Sheldon had just given her the key to winning this little game.

"Do we start now?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, backing up again until he was nearly back to where he'd started near the dishwasher.

There was something about the rising color in his cheeks and the excited flash in his eyes that left her with a sense of foreboding and dread. Still, she was being blatantly challenged by a man who clearly was insane enough to think he could beat her at a game he'd already lost. Her wounded heart demanded this challenge be dealt with swiftly and decisively.

Rising from the table, she crossed the distance between them in a few, short paces. As she got closer, the more he backed against the sink. She didn't stop until she was touching his chest with her own. She reached up and ran a hand across his cheek, the way she had wanted to on more occasions than she could remember.

He sucked in a hurried breath and tensed under her touch. "What are you doing?" he asked, fear evident in his gaze.

"Winning," she said, wrapping her free hand around his waist and nestling her head his sternum. It was warm and firm, just like she remembered.

"Amy," he said before breaking off.

She felt his voice reverberating against the ear she had pressed against him. She released his cheek and allowed her other arm to circle around him, holding him prisoner against her. "Yes?"

"This won't work. We've cuddled before. I don't mind it."

The rapid, hammering heartbeat she heard said otherwise. "Have we done this before?" she said, reaching down to clamp her hands over the globes of his buttocks.

He jumped against her. "You're cheating," he screeched.

"You said I could say anything, do anything. Well, I'm _doing_ this. Want to leave yet?"

His breathing was accelerated, his body as tense as a board. Any minute now, he was going to fly into a panic and she was going to win. Disappointment at the inevitability of that welled within her, but she didn't pay attention to it long enough to deduce the cause. She just kept herself pressed against him and massaged his ass with her hands. All in all, Sheldon had quite a nice tushy. She was going to enjoy it while she could and damn the consequences.

She opened her mouth to tell him so, thinking it would be enough to send him reeling, but his next action completely robbed her of speech. Dr. Sheldon Cooper, the man who hated physical contact more than any other on the planet, brought his arms down around her and then further down. _Oh, dear Lord._ His hands gently cradled the crown of her head before sliding slowly through her hair. They paused ever so slightly at the nape of her neck before continuing their path over her shoulders and down the graceful slope of her back. Her surprise at his actions left her frozen in place, just experiencing the sensation of him touching her. She'd expected him to reach the line of her waist and remain there—as any proper gentleman would.

Yet, Sheldon Cooper was clearly no gentleman.

His hands continued their idle journey south until he, like she, had two handfuls of _gluteus maximus._ Sheldon used his salacious new hand hold to jerk her closer to him. With a gasp, she looked up at him in shock. He grinned down at her, a challenging glint in his smirk. "What's next?"

She jerked away from him, stumbling back a number of steps until there was enough space between them for her to get a hold on herself. Collapsing again in her chair at the dining room table, she tried to figure out what just happened and how the tables had just been turned on her.

_He really is the most stubborn man in the world_, she thought_. Especially when it comes to getting something he wants. But could he touch me like that because I wanted him to? No. Not then. Never then. _She turned away, unable to look at his flushed face and the sight of his hands, still held out from his body, his nimble fingers spread wide as though he were still cupping her …

_Never mind that._

She flinched as he moved closer to her. This seemed to give him pause for a moment before he hurried past her and sat down at the opposite end of the table. He reached into his satchel and withdrew a single sheet of paper.

"I'm not taking back the termination notice, Sheldon. So you may as well put that away."

"That's not what this is."

Curiosity had her looking over at him. His cheeks were still abloom in color, as if his actions had shocked him as much as they had her. He reached over and plucked a red pen from her desk before turning back to the paper in his hand. With a flourish of his hand, he marked the page in front of him before turning back to look at her.

"What is that?"

He smiled. "I realize that the apology I made to you last evening was not enough for you to take me back. Amends must be made. I understand that. I consent to that. Therefore, I have prepared the following checklist of things I must do to secure your favor and to assure you that I fully understand the depths of the wrong I did you."

He held out the sheet, which she took.

There, third from the top with a check box next to it, was written the following words: "Touch Amy of your own free will." This item was the one with the red check mark next to it. Before she could process this or her feelings about it, her eyes unwillingly skimmed over the rest of the items on his list.

* * *

**4. Participate in an activity that just Amy enjoys without a word of complaint.**

**5. Take Amy on a date that is not on a pre-approved date night.**

**6. Attend a Fowler family function.**

**7. Subscribe to **_**Neuron,**_** and pledge to read it completely every month.**

* * *

The list continued on until her attention was caught on the very last one. Twenty-five different items were on this list, but it was this last one that sent her over the edge. She couldn't believe he'd actually written that one, that he'd dared to use it to try to quell her anger and worm his way back into her life. It was a new level of low she'd never expected of him.

She looked up, gaping at him. He stared back, the expression on his face telling her he more than knew which one had sparked her attention the most. He straightened his shoulders and puffed out his chest, as if he were preparing himself to accept a massive blow.

Instead, it was Amy who felt like she'd been pummeled to death.

"You're serious about this?" she asked.

He nodded resolutely.

Shaking her head, she stared back down at the sheet of paper. There stood line twenty-five, staring right back with the same intensity as the man who'd typed it into existence. What she'd wanted for so long was finally within her grasp, and she couldn't accept it. Yet, there it was all the same, mocking her with its malicious brevity.

* * *

**25. Make love to Amy Farrah Fowler.**


	16. You Can't Handle The Truth

**Chapter Sixteen: You Can't Handle the Truth**

Sheldon watched Amy expectantly. She wouldn't even look up from the page he'd given her. Moreover, she wouldn't look up from the very last line on that page. Her eyes kept moving from left to right, as if she were trying to comprehend what she was seeing. The sentence filtered through his mind as if she were reading it aloud.

_Make love to Amy Farrah Fowler._

The lingering silence between them wasn't a positive sign. He wasn't sure how he knew that. Maybe it was instinct honed from knowing Amy as long as he had or maybe it came from being raised by two very powerful women—Mom and Meemaw. Whatever was going on inside Amy's mind, it wasn't good. He'd set up the wager knowing they would get to this point—it was inevitable, after all—but she was supposed to be happy right now. She was supposed to be looking up at him with watery eyes and a slightly crooked smile—the way she'd looked at him when he'd made her his emergency contact. But she wouldn't stop looking at that blasted paper.

He swallowed the knot of dread swelling in his throat. He'd been laying all of his cards on the table by bringing out that paper. There wasn't a backup plan here. This was it. Didn't she understand that? In one fell swoop, he was giving her everything she'd ever wanted. He was pushing himself to the limit. For her. Surely she could see that. Surely, she would have to give him a second chance now.

"You really mean this?" she said, her gaze finally flicking up to him.

"Yes," he affirmed quickly with a nod. "All of it."

She shook her head, as if in disbelief. "You're taking our wager to the limit. You really will say anything to win, won't you?"

He frowned. That wasn't how this was. The wager was merely a ploy to get her listen to him. He didn't care about winning or losing. His only concern was getting her back. "Amy, I meant everything I wrote on that paper and I meant it _before_ I even knew there was a wager."

"Then why try to have a physical relationship with me _now_? You've known I've wanted this for a long time. Why not two weeks ago? Why not a month ago? Why now? Because you're scared of losing me?"

He sighed. She didn't understand. How could he make her see when he wasn't really sure himself why he did what he did with her half the time? She was different. That was all he knew. Whether he liked it or not, in his tightly-controlled world of finite rules and regulations, Amy Farrah Fowler had immunity. The rules simply didn't apply with her. To find out why would be harder than discovering the formula for cold fusion.

Sheldon had never been good at expressing himself at times of high emotion. It was too much stimulation bombarding him until all he usually wanted to do was hide with a cover over his head until things calmed down, until he had time to analyze everything, until it all made sense again, until he felt like himself again. But to hide now wasn't possible. He'd lose everything. He'd lose Amy.

_Not happening._

"Amy, I've been considering a physical relationship with you for a long time now. I told you this the night we had simulated coitus while playing Dungeons and Dragons. Do you not recall?"

"I remember," she said, sitting back in her seat with a frown, "you said you hadn't ruled it out."

"Yes," he said, relieved. They were finally making progress.

"Of course, saying that is not the same thing as saying you are contemplating a physical relationship with me. At the time, I thought it was. However, the longer I've had to consider things, the more I'm starting to believe it's really the opposite."

"What do you mean?" he asked. _Where is she going with this?_

"I mean not ruling it out means you were _attempting_ to rule it out. That you are looking for a reason to deny that aspect of our relationship."

"That isn't true!"

She released a loud breath and stared at him. "You've been against a physical relationship from the start." Amy propped her elbows on the table and leaned towards him. "_That_ is true. Even in the coffee shop that first day, you wouldn't have looked at me twice if you hadn't been blackmailed into meeting me by Rajesh and Howard."

"I hadn't known you three minutes and you told me I couldn't ever touch you. Your words were 'You should also know that all physical contact up to and including coitus is off the table.' _You_ said that, Amy. Not me."

"Which is why you were even interested in me in the first place, right? I was safe. I was a smart girl—your equal intellectually—who wouldn't put physical demands on you. It must have been like winning the lottery."

He was already shaking his head before she even finished her sentence. "No. It wasn't like that. We wanted the same things in the beginning," he stressed, clenching his fists tightly in his lap. "You're remembering it wrong. We were the same. _That_ is what I was struck by, how similar we were. I relished that. Nobody has ever been so like me." He stared down at her intensely, willing her to understand how important that day had been to him, how much he adored having her in his life and how much he had from the very beginning.

She broke his gaze and sat back again, her hands falling uselessly into her lap. "We're not alike now. You don't want me—not like I want you—and I'm tired of trying to woo you into wanting me. How do you think this makes me feel, Sheldon? To always have to be patient and lightly nudge you along while you try to figure out ways of getting around giving me what I want. I hate that feeling. For once, it would be nice if you just took the lead in pushing our relationship forward, if you just reached out for me because you wanted to, not because you thought it was what I wanted or because you felt you owed it to me. When is it your turn to woo me?"

He opened and closed his mouth several times. Woo her? How would that even work? He didn't have the first idea how to begin wooing a woman, much less Amy. It wasn't something he'd ever concerned himself with. Why would he? He was a _homo novus_—the first and only of his species. Until Amy, that is. Besides, they were together now. Wooing was done in the early times of a courtship, when the parties were unsure of each other, their place in each others' lives, and their level of commitment. He wasn't unsure of anything when it came to Amy. She was his, and she belonged with him. He knew that better than he knew the 1000th decimal place of _pi_.

"See?" she said, finally breaking the silence between them. "I'm right. You don't romantically want me. You just don't want to lose me because you know you'll never find another friend like me. So, you make adjustments—negotiations—give me things a little by little so I'll stay with you, so I won't leave. You've been stringing me along emotionally for years, hoping I wouldn't leave you."

"No," he said. Then, he repeated the word again and again until he could make her believe. "No, that isn't true." But what if there was a kernel of truth in what she was saying? What if he'd only been compromising himself little by little in order to make her stay? She'd shown him before how willing she was to leave him under the right circumstances. She would well be able to survive the end of this relationship. Not only had she shown him that after their first argument, but she'd shown him that last night when she'd gone out with and kissed another man.

_No. No. No._ He needed Amy. He wanted her—romantically and in every way possible—more and more every day. But he couldn't tell her that. This relationship between them was uneven as it was. Amy had all the power. She could turn his life upside down on a dime, make him turn his back on ideas he'd held firm to his whole life. She made him feel when he wanted the relief of not feeling. Physical affection was the one area where he had unilateral control. Was it wrong to not want to hand that over to her as well? What would happen if he did? What would happen if she had full control of him and—worse—she knew she had that control? What would happen then?

_Checkmate, that's what._

—**TMR—**

Her heart felt like it was being cut out with a rusty scalpel. No matter how many times Sheldon tried to deny it, she knew the truth. She could see the fear in his eyes, which told her he knew it as well. But suspecting the truth and having it confirmed were two very different things. There was a safety and security in the what-if? because one could tell oneself there was a chance, however small, that one was wrong. Having it confirmed smothered the last bit of hope she had.

With a heavy sigh, Amy pushed away from the table and stood up. She was so tired, physically and mentally. When could it just be over? However painful that would be, it had to be better than this no man's land they currently occupied.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes. She knew how to end this. There was a way to make him leave. It was the one, sure-fire thing to get him to run. She hadn't wanted to do this, hadn't wanted to cause herself this much mortification or pain. There was still one what-if? she'd been trying to hang on to. But the longer he was here, the more pain he was causing her. So, like a wolf about to chew off its own leg to escape a trap, Amy prepared to end this game once and for all.

_It's time for the truth._ She would win the game, but lose the rest of her dignity and heart in the bargain. Opening her eyes, she looked at her ex-boyfriend.

"I do want you, Amy," Sheldon said, sounding like a small child grasping at excuses in order to stay up past his bedtime.

_So be it. Dignity be damned_, she thought. "Do you know why I broke up with you, Sheldon?"

"Because I lied to Kripke about our relationship and because I didn't tell you about my new assistant. Then, when you demanded an apology, I didn't want to give it to you. But I am willing to—"

She held up a hand. "No. Those were symptoms of a bigger problem we have, a problem we've had nearly from the beginning. Having those things happen just highlighted how different you and I are together, how much we want different things and how we will always want different things."

He zoomed to his feet, his mouth flying open in shock. "No, we're the same. We always have been."

"We have similarities, yes. However, when it comes to what we want for our future and for the future of our relationship, you and I are leagues apart. For example, this summer while Leonard was gone, we spent a lot of time together. Do you remember?"

"Of course," he said, looking confused as to where she might be going with this. She hated the trepidation on his face.

"I thought we were growing closer, physically and emotionally. We even kissed a few times. We were making real progress in all areas of our relationship for once."

"We were."

"But then you stopped. You pulled away from me without a word. You just took it all away the second Leonard returned to you. You stopped talking to me except when you had to, you shut me out of aspects of your life I'd once been allowed in, you stopped touching me, you … just … stopped … everything. I thought it was too much for you, too fast. I thought if I gave you a little space you would be fine." She shook her head in dismay. "I should have realized what was going on then, but I didn't."

"What?" he asked, edging closer to her. "What is you think happened?"

"You didn't need me anymore. With Leonard gone, I became your sole means of emotional, mental and physical support. I was the center of your universe, what kept everything in place. So you wouldn't lose me, you gave in to my physical needs to keep me close throughout the summer. But as soon as Leonard returned, you didn't require me anymore so you took everything back."

"That's not true. You weren't the only support I had. I had my mother and my friends. Moreover, Penny and I grew closer over the summer as well. But, I assure you, I didn't feel the need to kiss any of them. I kissed you because I wanted to, Amy."

She slapped the end of the table with her fist. "You kissed me because you couldn't find a way around it. You'd kept me on the hook long enough."

Sheldon jumped, but he didn't stop arguing. "I kissed you because I had spent weeks wondering what your lips would feel like under mine," he said, stepping forward. "I kissed you because I couldn't go one second longer not kissing you." He was practically on top of her. He leaned down until she could feel his breath wash over her cheek. His voice lowered to a hoarse whisper. "I kissed you because I wanted to so badly I couldn't see straight."

_Oh my_. She gasped in surprise and took a few steps back. Amy wanted to believe him. Boy, did she want to believe him. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him until they were both out of breath. But she couldn't. This was a game. Winner take all. Sheldon certainly wasn't forgetting that. He was playing this with everything he had. She couldn't do less.

"That last night we were together, the night of Leonard's party, you kissed me," she said, her chin jutting at him in challenge.

"Yes," he murmured, his face seeming to burn with the memory. His eyes darted down to her lips, as though he were contemplating repeating the act right here, right now.

The passion flowed between them like a heavy, electrical current. She wanted nothing more than to throw herself at him and demand to be taken in some kind of primal, animalistic mating ritual. She closed her eyes, trying to remember herself, trying to remember how to breathe.

"The next morning, you acted like it hadn't happened," she said, looking at him again. "I asked you if we were going to have dinner together like we had grown used to doing, and you refused."

"But—"

She continued on, fearing her strength and determination would wane any second. As it was, she could stop watching his full, ripe mouth—especially as his teeth came out to sink into his bottom lip.

"I called you the next day, but you sent me to voicemail. Two rings and it went to voicemail. I know what that means. I tried to call you later. You texted me back. 'I'm busy,' you wrote. 'Will call some other time.' When you did finally call, we spoke for thirteen minutes—ten minutes of that with you complaining about what the dry cleaners did to your pants. I wanted to meet you for lunch, you were too busy working with Kripke. I wanted to Skype, you were working on your board."

"I was."

"It took me a few days to figure out what you were doing. Then it was all too clear. Leonard was back. You didn't need me anymore."

"I always need you!" he lashed out at her. "There's not a day that goes by when I don't need you! I'm here fighting for you. What else do you need to prove that? What else can I do to show you?"

He was yelling. Amy didn't care. She was beyond caring now. He wanted to yell. She could do the same.

"I want you to love me! Can you do that?"

He opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say died on his lips. There was a kaleidoscope of emotions flickering over his face. Confusion was the most abundant, as though he couldn't exactly process what she'd just said. "What?" he finally asked.

She was out on the limb. There was nothing to do but to keep going. Defiantly, she looked him square in the face and said, "I love you, Sheldon Cooper. I love you, and I have for a long time now."

"You … love me," he repeated. "You love me like I love Leonard, like my dearest friend?"

"No, I have fallen hopelessly in love with you," the words fell out of her mouth like water down a waterfall, "like Isolde loved Tristan, like Cleopatra loved Antony, like—"

"Like Uhura loves Spock."

She paused, unsure of what to say.

He obviously took her pause as misunderstanding as he said, "You know, from the new _Star Trek_ movies."

Amy nodded. "I love you, Sheldon."

Silence echoed throughout the room. Amy stared at him, waiting for the end to come. Sheldon stared back, as if he'd never seen her before, as if she'd betrayed him by merely speaking. It was too much. The last of the hope within her sputtered out like an asphyxiated candle. She'd said it. He knew now. It was over. Tears splashed down her face, but she didn't look away.

Sheldon did. He turned his back on Amy as if she'd burned him and stumbled toward the door. That hurt more than anything. His breathing was coming out in wheezes as he slammed his hand against the top of the door and rested there. _Checkmate._ This was it. They were both losing here. Oh, how it hurt. She didn't bother wiping away her tears as she followed behind him, gathering up his things as she went. She had to get him out of here. Amy stuffed the last of his belongings into his bag and held it out to him.

"Here. Don't forget this before you leave," she said.

More wheezing. The crack of his hand slamming again against the wood. The low moan of defeat. "No. No. No." His head slowly shook back and forth as he kept his back to her. "Why are you—You—you don't mean this. You can't. You're just trying to get me to run."

"I _do_ mean it. I love you, Sheldon."

He whirled. She took a step back.

"No! You said you found 'the notion of romantic love to be an unnecessary cultural construct that adds no value to human relationships.' You said that, Amy!"

"Yes, and as a rule, I did believe that. But you have proven to be the exception to my rule." She shrugged, so overwhelmed she just didn't care about anything anymore. "I'm in love with you."

He flinched and looked away. She looked down, speaking more to herself than anyone else. "I'm in love with a man who doesn't love me." She sighed, hating how pitiful she sounded. "Of course."

In her peripheral vision, she caught sight of him jerk forward and glanced up. His eyes were wild and unfettered as they looked her. He advanced, like a predator stalking its prey. On pure instinct, she dropped his bag and zipped back, desperate to keep space between them. Sheldon, stepping over his fallen bag, continued forward.

"I love you," she said, hoping to detour him as she receded around the edge of the couch and rushed backward.

He didn't flinch this time. Sheldon didn't even slow. His gaze was locked on her as he gracefully maneuvered around the couch and closed the distance between them, stayed on her until he had her pinned up against the edge of her desk. She'd never been so frightened in all her life. What was he going to do? What would happen now?

"I love you," she said, using the only weapon she had left. She closed her eyes. "I love you."

The feel of his hand softly cupping her cheek was a shock. Her eyes popped open as she looked at him. The expression on his face she couldn't identify. She'd never seen him like this, but she was unable to look away, unable to move at all. A fiery torment of emotion burned between them, threatening to consume them both at any moment.

"I love you," she murmured. There was no attempt to wound him this time. No, this was because it was the truth and because there was simply nothing else to say. "I love you."

He leaned forward, lightly pressing his lips against hers before moving back. "And I love you," he said.


	17. Kiss It All Goodbye

**Chapter Seventeen: Kiss It All Goodbye**

If eye-gazing were equal to sex, Amy wouldn't have been able to call herself a virgin anymore. The intensity of their lengthy stare was deeply, deeply intimate. There was no room for secrets here, no room for lies or anger. Just the sensation of amazement mixed with happiness, love, and an odd sense of release. Amy couldn't speak. She tried, but she'd been stunned into silence by this most unexpected turn of events.

Sheldon loved her. _Really?_ How was such a thing even possible?

The man in question used his impressive height to leer down at her. She cocked her head upward, trying to remember how to breathe. Sheldon caressed her cheek lovingly, as if she were something precious. He cupped her face with both hands. His eyes broke away from hers, darting down to her lips before looking back up at her. Then, pulling her slowly to him, he brushed his lips against hers once, twice and a third time. Within a minute, this delicate chafing grew into something more substantial. Amy melted against him, running her hands around his waist and enjoying every second of this. Sheldon's mouth was a wonder. He didn't just kiss her. His lips massaged hers, nipping and stroking and consuming. She lost track of time, thoughts or anything else. Amy was simply lost in this most epic of kisses.

Sheldon's hands moved away from her face, but the kiss continued on. They reappeared a minute later grasping her shoulders as he angled his head and lightly sucked her bottom lip between his. Amy moaned as he erotically sucked, released, and went back for more.

There have been kisses which have become legendary because of the depth of their fervor, their longevity, or the participants' overall skill. This kiss, however, was more than just the melding of two mouths together. No, this was the coming together of two tormented souls, the rebuilding of burned bridges, and the birth of a fierce, immortal hope.

Or so it felt to Amy. _Oh my._ She didn't just wrap her arms around Sheldon as he strengthened his embrace, she clung to him like he was her sole source of oxygen. She didn't just return his kisses, she took in everything he was giving her with an untamed hunger and gave it back with the vigor of a woman who'd been told she was cured of cancer. This wasn't just a kiss. This was passion. This was lust. This was heat. This was insanity. This was jubilation. This was surrender. This was desperation. This was relief. This was finally finding the one place where you fit after searching for so, so long.

This was love.

He broke away for a moment, his eyelids slackened as if he were drugged as he looked at her. His mouth was swollen and his face was flushed. Desperately needing him, Amy dug her fingers into his shoulder blades to bring him back to her. Sheldon took the hint, tilting his head to recapture her lips with a fierce groan of surrender. His hands moved up her back to lose themselves in her hair, to cradle the back of her head as if he were intent on keeping her immobile. _As if I'm going anywhere_, she thought. Their mouths met, rubbed against each other, broke apart and met again.

On one such occasion, he took advantage of her parted lips to lightly dart his tongue into her mouth. It was quick, almost as if he were testing the waters with his big toe before he jumped into the ocean. She whimpered and mimicked his movement with one of her own. That was all the encouragement he seemed to need. Without another second passing, his tongue plunged inside. Then, the kiss transformed from passionate to blatantly carnal.

The next thing Amy was aware of was Sheldon's hands on her buttocks. Before she could think he was copping a feel, however, he lifted her swiftly, planting her on the desk. He moved forward between her legs, his fingers gripping her hips as his body pressed firmly against hers.

Acting on instinct, she wrapped her legs around his slim hips, locking her ankles over his butt. Her arms moved up to encircle his neck as they continued to kiss. Her tongue came out to meet and mate with his in a luscious frenzy that only left her hungry for more.

He broke away from her mouth to pepper her jaw and neck with kisses as his hands edged up her rib cage. Then, she gasped as he cupped her breasts. Years of reflex had Amy slapping him away. Her legs unlocked, and she shoved him away.

Both breathing heavily, they stared at each other. She looked away first, feeling guilty about hitting him. This reflex had gotten her in trouble before—most recently, it had gotten her on a no-fly list on her last girl's trip to Vegas.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It was a spontaneous effect honed from years of being protective of my personal space, not anything against you."

"Understood. My hands went rogue. I should have asked permission before I …"

"Groped me?" she supplied.

He nodded, blushing. "Under similar circumstances, I might have done the same thing if you had groped my …"

"Penis?"

He coughed, as if he were picturing that in his mind and it was too much. He looked down like he was trying to get himself together, which is when she noticed that Sheldon's hands weren't the only rogue part of his body right now. He seemed to notice his predicament at the same time because his looked up, caught her staring, let out a squeak of mortification, and raced into her bedroom. A few seconds later, she heard her bathroom door slam.

Amy laughed. She couldn't help it. She laughed so hard she rolled off the desk, landing with a grunt on her knees. It hurt, but it didn't stop her laughter. Not one bit. Her humor wasn't so much about the fact that Sheldon Cooper was even now dealing with an erection because of her; it was more because of what that erection stood for. She giggled again—just for the pun—and shook her head. All this time, she'd truly believed Sheldon had never desired her, that he'd never once lusted after her. She'd worried about this more than any woman ever should. But it was obvious all that worry was for nothing.

Amy had never been more thrilled to be wrong in her life.

—**TMR—**

One minute, he'd had it all together. The next, everything was chaos.

Strangely enough, Sheldon wasn't bothered by the change. Somehow, he'd fallen in love with Amy. He had never been one to believe in romantic love—at least not for himself. After all, who had time for that when one was on a path to the greatness of a Nobel Prize? But he had seen it in others enough to know that the emotion did indeed exist.

Meemaw and Pop-pop had deeply loved each other. Howard and Bernadette clearly did as well. Even the skittish Penny had clearly loved Leonard many, many years before she was able to admit it. But for him and Amy? It had never seemed needed.

After all, hadn't they dispensed with this notion early on in their relationship? They had similar intelligence levels, a foundation of like interests and like thinking, friendship and companionship, mutual respect and admiration, and the possibility of coitus. What else did two geniuses ever need?

_I want you to love me! Can you do that?_

Fear had ripped through him when she'd said that. It was the kind of fear that comes from the knowledge that the world you assumed you were living in wasn't at all like you thought it was. It was as if Amy were opening a secret chamber of herself for his eyes, a chamber he'd never known could exist.

_I am in love with you._

He'd been sure it all had to be some kind of devilish trick on her part. The chaos had been everywhere then, threatening to consume him at any moment. But he looked in her eyes, saw the pain there, saw the love there. He could drown in the love she held for him. And, somehow, everything fell into place. Sheldon embraced the chaos. He was in love with her. Of course he was. Maybe it had been coming on so slowly that he hadn't registered it or maybe it had always been there and he'd been too stubborn to acknowledge it. Whatever it was, it was here now. He had to accept it. What good did it do to fight what was and what couldn't be changed? Besides, this was Amy. It was OK to love her. She was his equal, his partner, his … everything. She was the exception to every rule he had. Why not this one too?

And now, instead of being out there reveling in all of this love and reuniting with Amy, he was in her bathroom dealing with an erection.

"Good grief," he chided, glaring at his offending body part and willing it to stand down. He'd never had this issue before. Certainly, he'd had erections before. His genitals were fully operational, after all. Puberty had been a minefield of erections until he'd learned to exert control over the hormones running rampant in his system. Thankfully, he'd begun to employ Kohlinar around then. When that didn't work, cold showers or a mortifying session of self-abuse had done the trick.

But to have an erection come about because he'd been kissing a woman was first. Of course, he thought, the fact that he was willingly kissing a woman as avidly as he was kissing Amy only moments ago was a first as well. He felt giddy and light-headed, his hands were still shaking, and, obviously, his penis was … intent on proving its functionality.

Turning on the sink, he scrubbed his hands before splashing cold water on his heated face. Wiping it dry with a hand towel, he catalogued himself in the mirror. Larger pupils, reddened cheeks, swollen lips, a racing heartbeat, and his hair and clothes were askew.

"Is this what lusts feels like?" he asked himself.

It had to be. Emotions were running rampant so he closed the lid on the toilet and sat down to take stock. Lust was the most abundant emotion to classify. Then, there was exhilaration, slight trepidation, and a heavy dose of guilt. He quickly tossed away the guilt as an unfortunate side effect of his ridiculous childhood which included too many Sundays listening to a long-winded clergyman extol the unattainable virtues of Christianity while frightening the weak-minded congregation with threats of fire and brimstone. Fornication outside of marriage was a sin.

He shrugged. What did he care? As long as he and Amy agreed and could plan everything out ahead of time—and his mother wouldn't find out—what did he care about sin? He was in love with Amy and she was in love with him. If exhibiting—in a hygienic environment—a physical representation of the feelings they shared was wrong, he just didn't care.

Trepidation was due to a fear of the unknown. Nonetheless, this was quickly squelched as well. He could Google what he needed to know or read that nightmare-inducing book Penny and Leonard had purchased for him. He sighed, beginning to feel better. Besides, he and Amy would plan everything out and it would go off without a hitch. Their make out session in the living room had more than proved that point for him. There seemed to be a natural instinct at work here as well. Hopefully, that would help him with any holes his research might not cover.

The exhilaration came from finally feeling like he was on the sure path to getting Amy back. He'd been so concerned for a while there. Losing her was not an option, but he still had been staring it in the face for a moment. That was hell. If someone could have threatened him with that when he was a child, he would have gone to church every time the door was open. Heck, he would have allowed himself to be baptized.

And lust. _Let us not forget that_, he thought. Sheldon now fully understood why Leonard and the others raced around like idiots all the time where women were concerned. That being said, he didn't understand why they did it for any female in their vicinity. What sane man would willingly risk his life, sanity, and health for a woman he barely knew, much less didn't love and have a complete medical history on? _Reckless, stupid behavior._ He shook his head in dismay and looked down to see if his problem had waned yet.

_Nope._

"Will you go away already?"

He supposed it was the height of ridiculousness for one to be giving orders to one's genitalia, but he was desperate to get back to the living room and to Amy. There were things to be done, papers to sign before their reconciliation would be legal and completed. Then, things could get back to normal. _Finally._ He groaned to himself in frustration. Here he was so close to getting what he wanted, and he was completely sidelined by lust. It was annoying to be sure—even though the object of that lust was just outside the door. Yes, lust was annoying and not at all practical.

He looked down again, remembering how mortified he'd been to discover he'd been so betrayed by his own body and that Amy was witness to it all. Still, he supposed if things continued on the way they would inevitably do, this would not only happen again, but there would be more. Amy would be seeing his erect penis firsthand. He'd be naked and they would be …

"Not helping," he grunted to himself and got up from the toilet to walk around the bathroom. Perhaps a bit of pacing would calm things down. On his third revolution within the cramped space, his eyes fell on the tall, narrow linen cabinet situated next to the shower. He opened it, looking for something to occupy his mind. Cleaning and organizing always calmed him down.

Sheldon was disappointed to find the closet neatly arranged on a number of shelves. Everything was at it should be. The towels were perfectly folded and stacked according to color and functionality. Wash cloths were likewise organized as were hand towels. On the third shelf, Amy's toiletries were assembled by brand, size, and frequency of use—as it should have been.

Honestly, he would have been impressed if he weren't in so desperate a need of something to occupy his lust-soaked mind. He was about to shut the long door when the corner of something on the very bottom shelf caught his attention. Reaching down, he was surprised to find a tattered copy of a book. He flipped the paperback over.

"_Pride and Prejudice_ by Jane Austen," he read aloud. On the front cover was a picture of a man and a woman in Regency-era dress. The man, top hat in arm, was leaning forward to kiss the woman's glove-covered hand. He was immediately repulsed. What man in his right mind wanted to put someone's germ-infested hands anywhere near his mouth—even if she was wearing gloves? Who knew the last time they were washed?

"No wonder disease killed so many people back then," he said.

Of course, Sheldon had heard of the novel. He'd heard of everything. But he'd never read it before. If he remembered correctly—and when didn't that ever happen?—it was some kind of chick literature involving a husband-seeking woman and a proud, disagreeable man. They fall in love and live happily ever after or some other such nonsense, he was sure. He remembered Amy gushing over it for nearly half an hour one evening, begging him to watch some six-hour BBC adaptation with her. Thankfully, he'd managed to negotiate a compromise where they watched Animal Planet instead.

The real question was what was it doing in the bathroom? Amy had mentioned it before, a few times to be exact, but not enough to make him think she was some kind of fanatic about it. Taking note of the ragged state of the novel, he was hard pressed to believe she wasn't a fan. It was obviously well-read, like someone simply kept coming back to it. In fact, as he flipped through the pages, he noted highlighted sections. This shocked him because it was an unspoken societal mandate that one never, _ever _made marks in a book. He had believed Amy followed this rule as well. Yet, the book in his hands stood in testament to how wrong he was.

He came upon a highlighted portion.

* * *

_If a woman is partial to a man, and does not endeavour to conceal it, he must find it out._

* * *

This reminded him of his current situation with Amy. How could he have not known before today that she was in love with him? He should have seen it. It had certainly always been there. He could recognize that now. He'd been aware that she greatly favored him. But love him? He shook his head in surprise and dismay at his own blindness. Yes, she had loved him a long while. He had just been too wrapped up in himself to see it. Amy was right about that. Perhaps he was too selfish at times. But surely she knew that just how he was? Didn't loving someone mean accepting them as they were? Amy would accept this. She loved him. She had to.

He skimmed through highlighted passages, wondering what else he could glean from this little tome to help him in closing the deal with Amy once and for all. Sheldon was quick to find himself in agreement with this Mr. Darcy fellow most of the time. He seemed to be a level-headed, pragmatic individual loyal to his friends and to the rules that governed his life and station. Elizabeth Bennet, the heroine of the novel, was what one would expect: Plucky, beautiful and more than a match for the hero. Amy seemed to particularly like any conversations these two characters had as she highlighted each one.

* * *

'_I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it himself without disguise.'_

'_No,' said Darcy, 'I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding— certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of other so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost is lost forever.'_

'_That is a failing indeed!' cried Elizabeth. 'Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I really cannot laugh at it. You are safe from me.'_

'_There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil— a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome.'_

'_And your defect is a propensity to hate everybody.'_

'_And yours,' he replied with a smile, 'is willfully to misunderstand them.'_

* * *

Sheldon smirked. No wonder Amy liked these two. Their exchanges were humorous and full of wit. Speed-reading through more pages, he found the section where Darcy proposed to Elizabeth.

* * *

_In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you._

* * *

Hours ago, Sheldon might have rolled his eyes at such overabundance of sentiment. He would have scoffed and pronounced it all too "hippy dippy" to be tolerated. But now, these words spoke to him on a level previously unknown. He understood this struggle Darcy spoke of. He understood the idea of feelings not being able to be repressed. It was how he had felt only a little while ago. It was why he'd come to her apartment. It was why he'd kidnapped Amy. It was why he'd admitted he loved her. It was why he kissed and caressed her like a mad man. He might not have been able to confess that yesterday, but there was certainly no denying the truth now.

He read on, surprised when Elizabeth soundly rejected her suitor. Studying the highlighted portion there as well as the acerbic argument waged between the two characters, he started to think this story might be more along the lines of _Gone with the Wind_ or _Wuthering Heights_—both of which he had been assigned to read in college. Both were tales of a great romance which ended in lies, tragedy, and the two main characters apart. What if this one ended the same way? Somehow, that disappointed him more than it should have, as if this little book written over two hundred years ago might somehow predict the future for him and Amy.

Sheldon sighed in irritation. "I'm being ridiculous. It's just a story. All this profusion of emotion is going to your head, Cooper." Looking down, he was relieved to see his uncomfortable erection was slowly resolving itself. A few more minutes and he could safely return to Amy.

He frowned, curious again why his girlfriend would enjoy this book so much. Putting it into perspective, he admitted it wasn't a bad story really, but it didn't have light sabers, Vulcans or even a cool, made-up language. There wasn't even talk of war or battles here—at least as much in the small sections he had perused. Wasn't this story taking place during the Napoleonic wars? Shouldn't that have been more important to write about rather than gossip, parties, and the incessant need to marry? Even one soldier he found mentioned, a Mr. Wickham, seemed more interested in finding a rich wife than in holding a gun.

"What a dope. No wonder Darcy doesn't like him," Sheldon muttered.

He skipped a few pages ahead to find Elizabeth had somehow made it to Darcy's impressive mansion and seemed to be with him. Trying to understand what happened, he read outside the bright yellow passages and into the story itself. He was astonished to see how changed the character of Darcy appeared to be. When one would have expected him to be resentful and awkwardly uncomfortable in Elizabeth's presence, this woman he had loved who had rejected him so thoroughly, he was at ease, mannerly and every inch the courtly gentleman. He seemed intent on making a favorable impression on her. In fact, if one had to guess, one would have thought the man was working extra hard to woo a woman he had already lost.

_Fascinating._

But the fictional couple's idyllic reunion was sullied by the news that Elizabeth's youngest sister had run off with the aforementioned Mr. Wickham, causing ruin and pain to be brought upon her entire family if she did not end up married. Elizabeth, devastated by this turn of events, had to admit the truth to Darcy and was made to return home to her family. And she did, leaving behind this man she'd begun to develop feelings for along with any hope of ever seeing him again.

Growing frustrated, Sheldon skipped ahead, his eyes scanning the page with a swift fury until he stumbled upon the news that the sister had indeed married and all was well again. Wickham's cooperation was purchased with the fortune of Elizabeth's uncle but Darcy seemed nowhere to be found. Sheldon flipped page after page, ignoring highlighted portions in favor of looking for any mention of the man's name. He finally found it, but it was in an argument Elizabeth had with Darcy's aunt. It seemed the older woman was insistent Elizabeth promise not to marry her nephew, a promise Elizabeth refused to give. He skimmed on, wondering where Darcy was.

Finally, a few chapters later, the man himself appeared and it was a little while later that Sheldon stumbled upon a highlighted passage from Darcy that made him uncharacteristically happy.

* * *

_You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever._

* * *

"Yes!" Sheldon gleefully cheered, reading on with a grin on his face as Elizabeth finally accepted Darcy's proposal. Yet, Darcy's next words stopped him in his tracks.

* * *

_By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased._

* * *

"'To please a woman worthy of being pleased'," Sheldon repeated to himself. Somehow, that stayed with him even as he continued on to the rest of Darcy's speech.

* * *

'_My object then,' replied Darcy, 'was to show you, by every civility in my power, that I was not so mean as to resent the past; and I hoped to obtain your forgiveness, to lessen your ill opinion, by letting you see that your reproofs had been attended to.'_

* * *

And Darcy had. It was he who paid off Wickham, not the uncle. It was he who had fixed everything for Elizabeth, showing her with his every action how much he loved her. Even as Sheldon finished off the story and found that the hero and heroine went on to marry and live their well-deserved happily ever after, he was not satisfied. Darcy's last speech would not leave him alone. He thought back to everything he and Amy had been arguing about all this time.

"I've been looking at this wrong," he said, the book slipping from his hands to the floor.

All this time, he'd been more worried about himself, about getting Amy back and getting things back to normal. Sheldon had never considered—not really—what his actions had done to her. But he could see it now. Her humiliation, anger, resentment, and so much more. _Oh, God. What have I done to her? _Not only that, but his supreme arrogance in his dealings with her after the scene with Kripke was much worse.

He groaned, covering his face with his hands. Every unkind word, every manipulative tactic, every refusal on his part to not only apologize, but to even understand what it was he had done wrong in the first place. Then, to not change at all and think he was going to be able to keep her …

"I'm a fool, and I don't deserve her," he murmured.

_You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased._

As Elizabeth had done with Darcy, so had Amy had done with him. And so, like Darcy, Sheldon knew if he truly loved Amy and wanted her back, he would have to do what Darcy had done.

_I hoped to obtain your forgiveness, to lessen your ill opinion, by letting you see that your reproofs had been attended to._

"I have to change," he said, "and I have to show her I've changed."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth when a timid knock sounded at the bathroom door.

—**TMR—**

He'd been back there for over fifteen minutes. Was that normal? Amy didn't know much about erections firsthand, but she was quite sure they usually subsided by now. Yet, Sheldon had not returned to her. The longer he stayed away, the more uneasy she got.

_What if he changed his mind? What if he doesn't love me? What if he takes it back?_

There were still a million things they had to talk about and work out. Amy was willing to do that now that she knew Sheldon loved her, but if he took it back …?

She bit her lip and started pacing the living room. Ten minutes later, she had worried her nerves raw. Sheldon couldn't take it back. If he did, this was it. They were done. Surely he knew that? Surely he knew that before he'd even told her of his feelings in the first place?

Amy knew he loved her. That much was clear from his expression as he'd said the words and from the way he'd touched and kissed her afterward. The emotion was there, but was Sheldon strong enough to accept it and maintain it with her?

When she just couldn't take it anymore, she went after him. As the bathroom door remained closed, she assumed he was still inside. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she reached up and delivered a soft knock to the door.

"Sheldon? Are you all right in there?" she asked.

She heard the sound of scrambling and the slam of what sounded like the cabinet door. Then, he yelped, "Yes, I'll be right out."

She thought she heard the sink run, but she couldn't deduce what that could mean. What had he been doing in there? There were a plethora of answers, but she wasn't sure she wanted to know what the truth was. Finally, the door opened and he appeared, still flushed, but otherwise all right. Her eyes flicked downward below his waist for a second before returning to his face. She couldn't help it. She had to see.

"Everything OK?" she asked.

The expression on Sheldon's face said had noticed her checking him out, but he said nothing. Instead, he nodded and stepped forward to indicate he was ready to leave the bathroom. She moved out of the way, and he walked through the bedroom, and into the living room with her following curiously behind. _What is he doing?_

His bag, which she had hastily packed from before was lying on the ground near the door. He scooped up his satchel, looking around as if searching for something. His eyes landed and held on the door. His shoulders slumped, almost as if defeat and he gave a little shake of his head.

Amy, curious and worried before, was now frantic to know what was going on. "Sheldon?"

He turned to her, straightening to every inch of his impressive height. Somehow, that terrified her. _What is happening here?_

"Amy," he said, more formally than she'd ever heard him before, "I apologize, not only for my lies to Kripke, but for everything else I have done after that. You deserved better treatment."

"OK." She frowned, not expecting that. The vehemence in his tone was encouraging, but when he slipped the strap of the satchel over his head and settled it over his chest, she knew there was something more going on here besides an apology. "Are you leaving?"

"Yes, I think it is best for now. If you will give me a few minutes and a butter knife, I can have the door operational again." He walked towards the kitchen and, pulling open a drawer, got the utensil he sought.

It was as if all the emotion they'd been drowning in twenty minutes ago was gone, replace with this stoic, almost regal figure of a man. Whatever had happened in that bathroom was bad. He was panicking. He had to be. "Is this because of before? The kissing? The … erection? Because, Sheldon, it's perfectly normal for a man to—"

"No, I am well aware of that. Don't concern yourself. It's fine."

He passed her and went back to the door. Somehow, knowing she was moments from being free did not make her feel better. She would be free, but he would be gone. She didn't want him gone. She wanted him to stay and continue to fight for her. Whatever this was, they could work it out. They loved each other, didn't they?

"Then why are you leaving?" she said.

There was a clicking sound, and the door popped open. Sheldon nodded to himself and returned the knife to the kitchen. Amy wanted to throw herself in front of the door and demand some answers, but she had some pride and dignity left. She'd told him she loved him. She'd laid it all on the line. If he couldn't handle that, if he couldn't try to be the man she wanted, she wasn't going to beg him to stay.

Coming around the corner of the kitchen, he stopped a mere few inches from her. She stared up at him, waiting for the tragic end she knew was certain to come.

"Amy," he began, solemnly. "The gifts I sent and this weekend, they were all manipulations on my part, manipulations to get you back without having to really own to what I have done to hurt you. I have been so wrong for a long time. I assure you, I _will_ make amends with all due haste." His gaze dropped to the floor, as if he were too ashamed to look at her. "I hope you will one day find it in your heart to forgive me. In the meantime, I want to make it up to you and to be a better man."

"What are you saying, Sheldon? Do you not love me anymore?" she said, unable to stop the tears flowing down her cheeks.

He frowned and closed the distance between them, using his fingers to wipe her tears away. "I love you, Amy. Nothing will change that."

"Then why are you leaving?"

"Because it's what you deserve. You deserve a better man than someone who would kidnap you after you broke up with him. You deserve a man who deserves you. I'm not that man. Not now."

The tears fell harder now. This was it. He was breaking up with her. "Sheldon, we can work this out. We can talk about—"

"The time for words is over. I don't want to be the kind of man who just does a lot of talking, but doesn't show by his actions." He stepped back and reached into his satchel, pulling out the folded paper she knew by heart. Opening the sheet, he took out a pen and, with a swift flourish, signed his name at the bottom.

He held the page out to her, but she refused to take it. "No."

"Whether or not you take it is irrelevant, Amy. The letter you mailed will be at my house on Monday. The termination of our agreement will be completed then. If you accept my signature now, however, it will be ended today. But, either way, our previous relationship is over."

It was true. She knew it. "Why are you doing this?"

"You deserve better. I am making sure you have it."

"Is this about the man you saw me with last night? That's my brother-in-law Dooley. There's nothing romantic going on. He brought me home and walked me to the door after I went to visit my family. You're the only man I want. I know I have been mean and hateful to you this weekend, but I just—"

"Amy." His hand on her shoulder stopped her speaking. Sheldon cupped her chin, using his thumb to wipe away more tears. "It's OK. This isn't about anything you did. I promise you, this will all work out for the best."

"How can it work out for the best if we're not together?" she asked, her voice so feeble and weak she barely recognized it as hers.

Sheldon leaned down and took her into his arms in a hug. She clung to him, pressing her face into his neck. He pulled back and delivered a tender kiss to her lips. She locked her arms around his neck, trying to prolong the experience as long as she could. But, in the end, he proved to be the stronger of the two.

_In more ways than one_, she thought.

He stepped away from her, holding one of her hands in his. "I love you, Amy Farrah Fowler. You're the only woman I have ever loved or will ever love. A termination agreement won't change that. But I have to go. There are things I have to do, but I will be in touch soon. Have faith in me."

Bowing slightly, he pulled her hand up to his mouth and pressed a light kiss across her knuckles. Amy would have been fluttery with excitement if she hadn't been so devastated. Then, without another word, Sheldon released her hand, turned, and left her standing alone in the living room. The sound of the door closing behind him was like the sound of her heart breaking.

It was long time before Amy could move and much, much longer before she could stop crying.


	18. Crystal Blue Persuasion

**Chapter Eighteen: Crystal Blue Persuasion**

"Holy cow! This is like a movie or something."

"Not helping, Penny. Focus," Bernadette chided before turning back to Amy. "So what happened after that?"

Amy shrugged. "Sheldon left. A couple of hours later, a messenger arrived with my phones and laptop. That's it. The end."

"Did the messenger have a message for you?" Penny asked.

"No, and, before you ask, I haven't heard from Sheldon since."

"Not even a text message?"

"No, Bernadette, not even a text. He also hasn't been on Skype or sent an email."

"What did you do after he left?"

_Cried for hours and then went to bed and beat myself up trying to figure out what went wrong_, Amy thought. As she wasn't interested in her friends being aware of that specific indignity, she said, "I went to bed."

As a loud beep filled Penny's apartment, the blonde rose from the turquoise couch and walked into the kitchen. "So what are you going to do next?"

"Yeah," Bernadette added. "What's the plan?"

From her position in the chair next to the sofa, Amy turned to direct her comments at her bestie. "No plan. He said I should have faith in him. There's nothing left to do but that."

Penny pulled freshly-popped popcorn from the microwave and began evenly dividing it between three, brightly-colored plastic bowls. "This doesn't sound like the Amy we all know and love. You're the knight, and he's the princess, remember? Besides, the hardest part is behind you. He told you he loved you. It's time to take action, sweetie. Who says you have to wait on him?"

"This isn't a fairy tale or a romantic comedy, Penny," Amy scolded.

"So you aren't going to do anything?" Her bestie returned to the living room, passing out the bowls of popcorn before plopping back on the couch next to Bernadette.

Amy placed her popcorn on the coffee table, next to the untouched glass of wine Penny had given her when she'd arrived two hours ago. "It's not that I'm not doing anything. It's that I realize there isn't anything I can do to affect a change here."

"Yeah, well I certainly can 'affect some change'," Penny snapped. "I'll go next door and pummel him until he sees reason and comes begging you to take him back. I can make that scrawny little man crawl for hurting you like this. Leonard won't interfere. If anything, it will probably turn him on."

Amy's head unconsciously turned toward the closed apartment door as if she could see through it and across the hall into Sheldon's apartment. "He's home?" she asked before she could stop herself.

"Yeah," Bernadette said. "All the guys are over there watching the new _Star Trek_ movie. Howard mentioned something about a side-by-side "Wrath of Khan" comparison—like I know what that means."

Amy waved this off. "Never mind. It doesn't matter what they're doing." She looked back at her bestie with a grateful smile. "Penny, as much as I appreciate you offering to exert your Amazonian-like strength and ample feminine wiles in favor of defending my honor, I must decline. Sheldon and I are adults. If we can't work out the issues within our relationship by ourselves, we don't deserve to have one."

"But you don't have one," Bernadette pointed out, her usually high voice whisper soft.

Amy took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. They didn't understand. They so rarely did when it came to her and Sheldon. Why did she think it would be different this time? She wasn't sure why she'd allowed herself to be talked into coming here. She'd told herself it was because female bonding in this time was essential to enduring this most painful of all rites of passage—the first real romantic heartbreak. But she knew that wasn't really true. It was because she'd hoped to see _him_, even if only in passing. It was pathetic how much she wanted that, but it was true.

"How can you do nothing? What if he never calls you?" Penny prompted.

"I love him. I love him more than I ever thought I could love anyone." She turned to stare both of her friends down. "_Anyone._ Do you understand? I would literally and figuratively walk through fire for him. I've accepted this. And he loves me. He loves me just as much as I love him. I've accepted this as well."

Bernadette leaned in closer. "Then why not fight for that love?"

"Because whatever it is that drew Sheldon away is about him, not me. There isn't anything else for me to do. Can't you understand that? I told him of my feelings. I told him I would be willing to do whatever it takes to work it out. I laid down like the proverbial carpet in front of him and asked him to walk all over me. I offered him everything he'd asked for." She swallowed, hard, trying to fight back the tears threatening. "And he left me. He just left. I don't know why. I have racked my brain nonstop trying to figure it out. The only thing I have managed to deduce is that whatever it is that is keeping us apart, it's something on his end. When he fixes whatever this is, he will come back to me. He asked me to have faith in him. I am going to do that." A teardrop fell onto her hand. "There's nothing else I can do except ride this crazy rollercoaster to its end—whatever end that may be."

There was a long pause before Bernadette pointed the pink elephant in the room. "What if he never does?"

"Then he doesn't. I will survive, and I will move on. It's the human condition. I am no different."

Penny groaned and sat back heavily on the couch. "This is so frustrating. I just want to go over there and wring his boney neck."

"It's no more frustrating than watching you and Leonard struggle with your commitment issues, Penny, or Bernadette and Howard deal with their issues. Sometimes, it seems easier to fix someone else's problems because they aren't yours," Amy said.

"Howard and I have dealt with our issues," Bernadette announced. "Well, one of them at least. We were going to wait to tell you when everyone was together, but this party can use some lightening up." She beamed at her bewildered-looking friends. "We're going to try for a baby."

Screams and squeals of delight filled the room as both Amy and Penny rushed the spritely blonde to pelt her with hugs and good wishes. Bernadette was right. This news did change the tone of the evening. Amy was thrilled simply because the main topic of the night changed to this as well as plans the petite couple had made for the future—including looking into buying a house. Toasts, popcorn, ice cream, and a viewing of _Bridget Jones' Diary (_featuring the repeated rewinding of the hilarious wimpy male fighting scene) later, Amy was intent on calling it a night.

"But it's only 9:00," Penny protested.

"I have to be at the lab early tomorrow to finish up some paperwork. We're having the last of our subjects come in for their final tests in the morning. Then, in the afternoon, I have to head over to Caltech to pick up a brain specimen from the neurobiology department." Amy leaned in as if she were telling a secret. "Apparently, the hippocampus on this particular specimen has shrunk to an alarming degree due to Alzheimer's. I can't wait to see that in person. We're trading a Parkinson's specimen for it, but, between us, I think we're getting the better end of that deal."

"Interesting," Bernadette said. "I might want to see that."

Amy brightened. "I'll send you both pictures, if you want."

"Yuck. Count me out," Penny said with a shudder of disgust.

The female scientists rolled their eyes at their friend's revulsion and shared a small laugh amongst themselves. Amy threw her purse strap over her shoulder and readied herself to leave. Quick hugs were shared by all before she pulled open the apartment door. She stepped into the hallway as Penny moved to stand by the door.

Before she could turn to head downstairs, Penny stopped her. "How about a girls' night this weekend? We can do the whole thing. Slumber party, manicures, pedicures, overdose on chocolate, and play Life or Pictionary. What do you think? It'll make you feel better."

"I can't," Amy quickly answered.

Penny pouted. "Oh come on! Those are the only games I have half a chance of winning with you guys. Last time we played Scrabble, you were both in triple digits while I barely broke eighty points. Then," she flinched at the memory, "don't get me started on the night we played Trivial Pursuit."

"I meant I can't as in I have other plans," Amy said. "My younger sister, Harper, is getting married this weekend. I'll have my hands full with that."

Penny frowned. "What? You didn't tell us she was getting married. I figured you'd be crowing about being a bridesmaid again."

"There's nothing to crow about, I'm afraid. I'm not a bridesmaid. I am playing the harp, though."

Bernadette rose from the couch, joining Penny by the door. "She's your sister. How are you not a bridesmaid?"

Amy shrugged again. "We're not really that close. It's not a big deal."

"What did Emily say?" Penny asked.

"What can she say? It's not her wedding." Before this got into a big argument, Amy decided to calm things down. "It's fine. The dress is too whorish for me to wear anyway. My pelvis would have been out there for the world to see, and you know how much trouble it has gotten me into before. I will be more comfortable—and less enticing to the male population—in this lovely royal purple number I picked up for the occasion."

"Break up or not, Sheldon is still going to take you, right?"

Amy fiddled with the strap of her purse, unable to meet their obviously curious gazes. "I didn't tell him about it."

"Why not?"

"The same reason I didn't tell anyone else. It's not that big a deal. It's just a family obligation I can't get out of. Besides, we all know how Sheldon feels about meeting my family. Every time I have ever set it up, he finds a way out of it." She exhaled heavily with a shake of her head. "You can give a monkey a banana, but you can't make him eat it."

"That sucks," Penny said. "You're going alone?"

"Believe me. I'm quite used to it."

Penny bit her lip. "I could go with you, if you want."

"Me too," Bernadette jumped in. "We could really turn that wedding on its ear!"

Amy couldn't help but grin. "Thanks, but I'll be fine. Emily and her kids will be there. I'll have plenty of people to talk to. How about a girls' slumber party next weekend? I promise we'll play whatever you want, Penny."

"Deal," Penny said.

"I'm in," Bernadette agreed.

With a jaunty little wave, Amy walked towards the staircase. She heard Penny's door slam a few minutes later, just as she hit the first step.

Unfortunately, she almost hit Sheldon when she went to take the second step.

_What?_ Reflex had her stopping suddenly to avoid a collision, but Amy lost her balance in the process. His hands flew out to clasp her upper arms. Holding her tightly, he soon had her stabilized. They stared at each other, not talking for a long while. Then, finally, Sheldon yanked his hands away.

"Sorry," he said.

Since she wasn't exactly sure what he was apologizing for, she said, "Thank you for not letting me fall. I wouldn't relish a visit to the emergency room tonight."

"Of course not. No one ever relishes a visit to that germ-infested purgatory."

The words rolled off his tongue easily. Then, as if embarrassed by what he'd said, Sheldon fell silent. There was another long pause as they continued to look at each other. Then, suddenly, this too was too much. Amy broke away first, the heat of a blush blazing across her cheeks. She'd desperately wanted to see him earlier, but there was something about staring in those crystal blue eyes of his, knowing Sheldon loved her and that he knew she loved him. She somehow felt more vulnerable in that moment than she had when she'd first announced her feelings to him.

"Can I walk you to your car?"

Her eyes darted back up to meet his. In the entire time she'd known Sheldon, he had never once offered to walk her to her car. "What? Why?"

It was his turn to blush. He shrugged. "It's late. I would feel better if I knew you made it safely to your vehicle."

Amy's brain froze. "A-a-all right."

He nodded, stepping to the side to allow her to pass. _Move, Amy. Don't stand there like a dummy._ She moved, concentrating on applying one foot in front of the other. They walked side by side down one full flight of stairs. He didn't try to touch her again. He also didn't speak. Amy searched her mind for something to say, but it refused to accommodate her with anything significant beyond "How have you been?" As that felt ridiculous to ask him of all people, she remained mute.

"How have you been?" he blurted out when they reached the next landing.

"Fine."

"Your study is coming to a close soon, isn't it? You have your final subject interviews this week. Correct?"

"How do you know that?" she said, looking up at him in surprise.

"You told me."

"Yes, but as I recall, you were also griping a lot about Kripke that night. I didn't think you were listening to anything I said."

He puckered his brow in a look of confusion. "I always listen to everything you say."

Her heart pounded in her chest as a rush of pleasure streamed through her. She hated how much his words made her want to smile. But, at the same time, she felt really nervous and unsure. _Is this him trying to be friends? I don't want to be just friends. _Amy wasn't really sure what was happening here. She only knew she didn't want to be hurt anymore.

More silence followed their journey to the first floor.

"Did you get the funding you and Kripke were after?"

"Yes. It was substantially more than we'd originally thought. Around $300,000."

"I suppose this means you two will have to continue working together."

"Yes," he said with a nod. "But only one or two days a week. I have a few other things I am working on as well."

"You must be happy to have your assistant Alex back this week."

"Indeed I am. I asked her if she needed more time off to mourn her apparently weak-hearted grandmother, but she rejected it in favor of working."

Amy was surprised to find that Sheldon would even consider such a thing. She smiled up at him. "That was nice of you."

Sheldon looked away. "I can be sensitive to other's needs." He coughed, awkwardly. "I mean. I am trying to be."

There were more words implied by his tone. Almost as if he wanted her to know that he was doing this specifically _for her_. But it made no sense. How did being nice to his assistant figure in to any plans Sheldon might have for his relationship with Amy? She shook her head, intent on getting out of this building. The longer she was with him, the more questions she had, the more she never wanted to leave him.

"Perhaps you can reward Alex's diligence with a new assignment," she suggested.

"New assignment? How do you mean?"

Amy paused on the stairs. Sheldon had never looked at her this seriously before. It was odd, to be sure. "I mean. Perhaps it might be best to allow her to work with you on one of the other things you have to complete—especially since your main focus for the coming year will be on this grant with Kripke."

"You mean allow her to look at my formulas? To … touch my white board?" he asked this as if she'd just dared him to slap his mother.

"She's an intelligent woman, Sheldon. You've said so yourself. It's time you had a prodigy. You know what they say, 'Two heads are better than one.'"

"The only way that saying makes sense is in terms of you and I. With anyone else, it seems silly." He looked down at her with a wry grin. But, catching the frustration on her face, he coughed again and said, "I will consider it. Thank you for your suggestion."

Amy stared at him warily. _What is he doing? Who is this man and what has he done with Sheldon?_ Only by the use of pure logical argument had she ever been able to get him to say anything like that. And there were plenty of times he ignored her advice anyway. _What is going on here?_

They made it to the first floor before he spoke again, this time in a quick, streaming rush of words. "AmyIwaswonderingifyouwouldhavedinnerwithmetomorro wnight."

"Excuse me?"

He took a deep breath and began again. "I was wondering if you would do me the … honor of having dinner with me tomorrow night."

Her pulse raced again. "You mean at the Cheesecake Factory?" After all, tomorrow was Tuesday.

"We can go anywhere you like."

Amy frowned. That's it. Some type of alien had definitely come down and taken over Sheldon Cooper's body. There was no way he offered what he'd just offered. "What about your schedule?"

"I can adjust it. It's not a problem. Where would you like to go?"

Amy shook her head and turned towards the main door, pretty sure she'd just had some kind of stroke. What else could explain this? Sheldon jumped ahead of her to open the door and held it open for her to walk through ahead of him. She stopped, staring at him in utter shock. It wasn't that he'd never held the door for her. It was merely that practice was usually that it was the first one to reach the door who held it open for the other one. In this case, she'd gotten to the door initially.

Cautiously, she exited around him and through the doorway, moving with haste down the sidewalk towards her car.

"What is your response to my date invitation?" he asked, quickly catching up to walk beside her.

_Sheldon Cooper just asked me for a date in which I am allowed to pick the restaurant. On top of this, he walked me to my car, took my advice without argument, and held open a door for me. Yep, _she thought,_ this has got to be a stroke. Maybe I'm already dead and this is some kind of weird version of heaven. _She was sure any moment now someone was going to jump out from behind the bushes proclaiming it all some kind of warped joke.

"You want to go out on a date with me?"

He nodded. "Yes, if you're willing." He stared at her again with those blue eyes of his. "Are you willing?"

She sighed. Amy couldn't help it. "OK. We'll go the cheesecake factory," she said, needing something to be normal right now. "What time do you want me to pick you up?"

"It is customary, I believe, for the male to pick up the female for a date. Therefore, I will pick you up at your apartment at 7:00. Is this satisfactory?"

"You don't drive."

"I will figure something out," he promised.

Frowning again, Amy nodded and, almost in a daze, covered the rest of the distance to her car. Sheldon followed. She hit the clicker to unlock the doors. Again, Sheldon scrambled ahead of her to open the door.

Amy didn't say anything as she got into her car. What was there to say? Sheldon Cooper apparently held open doors now. She couldn't say she didn't like this new side of him.

"Have a pleasant drive home, Amy," he said, still holding open her car door. He leaned down and delivered a swift peck to her cheek. "I look forward to seeing you tomorrow night. I will call to confirm the details in the morning, if that is all right?"

_He kissed my cheek. Willingly. Sheldon Cooper just willingly kissed my cheek._ She blinked, trying to concentrate. But it was difficult because she kept remembering his much more detailed kiss from Saturday. "OK," she said.

"Please text me when you get home to let me know you have arrived safely."

And, with that, he firmly shut the door behind her. He walked around the front of the car and stood on the sidewalk, seemingly intent on watching her pull away. Amy shoved the key in the ignition and started the engine after clicking her seatbelt into place. Unable to look at him again, she put the car in gear and, with a quick check of her side mirrors, merged into traffic and pulled away from the building. She allowed herself a quick glance in the rearview mirror and was surprised to see him still standing on the sidewalk, a curious, enigmatic expression on his face. She made it to the first stoplight before she verbalized all the confusion she'd been suppressing for the last twenty minutes.

"What the hell just happened?"

* * *

**A/N: Love you guys. More on the way in the relative-to-near future. Who else is excited to have Season 7 started?**


	19. Goodbye, Mr Darcy

**Chapter Nineteen: Goodbye, Mr. Darcy**

Confusion continued to reign throughout the evening and into the next morning at work. Amy used every ounce of her intelligence to try to figure out the motive behind Sheldon's actions from the night before, but she came up with nothing. She even had lunch with Emily seeking her sister's advice on this enigmatic turn of events, but what her older sister had to say about the matter only puzzled Amy further.

"Sounds like he's courting you."

"That's crazy."

"I think it's kind of sweet. About time, too. Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

This gave Amy pause. It _was_ what she had wanted. Yet, it still made no sense. It wasn't the kind of thing Sheldon would do without something or someone compelling him to do so. "But why would he need to do that when he already had me willing to take him back?"

As her sister had no ready answers for that, Amy left lunch with more questions than when she started. She pondered this strange turn of events all the way to Caltech to make the brain specimen trade and wondered what tonight's dinner with Sheldon would entail. Who knew what the man was planning at this point? Amy had always known he was a little crazy—which was honestly something that consistently intrigued and aroused her—but this time it only left her cagey and more than a little frustrated.

She found the lab she was seeking easily as she had been there a few times in the past. The official exchange of specimens took no time at all. Carrying the little, plastic case close to her body, Amy walked back towards the parking lot and her car, trying to daydream about getting her medical booty under a scalpel and all the things she would discover when she finally did. But she couldn't. Instead, her mind was occupied thinking about how close in proximity she was to Sheldon. They were on the same campus right now. What was he doing?

Amy diverted towards his office. She wasn't sure what was going to happen when she got there or what she would say. She only knew this innate need to see him, to soak up his presence—almost as if that alone would give her the answers she sought. _I'm being ridiculous_. But logical chastisement did nothing to slow her progress towards his building.

The door to his office was open. She decided to do a nonchalant walk-by. _Just a glimpse of him, and I can be on my way. It'll be enough. I won't need anymore_. She shook her head, knowing she sounded like a crack addict trying to explain the need for a last fix. Throwing her shoulders back and her face forward—but twisted slightly to the side so she could utilize her peripheral vision—she marched as casually as she could down the hallway.

_He's not there._

Her shoulders slumped in disappointment as she stopped in front of the office next door to Sheldon's. Thankfully, its open door told her the room was currently without a tenant.

"Dr. Fowler?"

She wheeled around to find his assistant poking her head out of Sheldon's office.

"Yes, Alex?" she said, trying to appear more composed than she felt.

"Were you looking for Dr. Cooper?"

"No!" she blurted out before coughing and trying again. "I-I-I was here visiting the neurology lab to pick up a specimen. I'm on my way out."

Alex's brow wrinkled as she joined Amy in the hallway and pointed out the obvious. "The neurology lab is on the other side of campus."

Amy scoured her brain for a valid reason to be here. "I got lost?"

"I … see," the girl said warily. "Should I tell Dr. Cooper I happened to see you?"

"No! No, I mean there's no need for that. I'll be seeing him this evening." Amy knew she was losing her cool, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. What if Alex mentioned she was here? _Oh my God!_ "Do _not_ tell him I was here," she begged. "Please?" The last thing she needed was Sheldon thinking she was checking up on him or something. They were making progress—or something—in their relationship, and she was afraid to mess it up.

Alex frowned and gave a hasty nod. "Of course, Dr. Fowler. I'll keep this between us. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some equations to finish for Dr. Cooper."

"Equations? Sheldon is actually letting you work on equations?"

The assistant blushed with pride. "Yes, he says I'm ready to do more than pick up his dry cleaning—although I still have to do that," she hastened to add.

Once more, Amy was confused. She was also thrilled. _He took my advice. I can't believe it._ It wasn't like it was the first time that had happened. In fact, she routinely gave Sheldon advice, but that advice was usually limited to areas of his life involving social constructs, schedules, interpersonal relationship conundrums, and the like. For him to follow her suggestion on a purely physics matter such as this was nearly unheard of. She remembered one time last fall when he and Leonard had been arguing over the legitimacy of an experiment Leonard had been working on.

The juvenile battle had waged on for nearly a week and, at one point, had the roommates stealing single socks from each other in order to not have pairs or something like that. When she pointed out that they could simply agree to disagree and move on past this, Sheldon had rolled his eyes.

"Oh, Amy," he had said. "You don't understand. This is physics, not neurobiology. There is no agree-to-disagree. There is only wrong and right. And, in this case, he is wrong and I am right." There was a condescending little chuckle. "I don't tell you how to deal with your brain monkeys, do I?"

She'd gone home that night irritated and greatly offended. She'd also kidnapped three of his favorite striped socks—something he still blamed Leonard for—but he didn't need to know that. Sheldon, of course, had noticed the missing socks, but not his girlfriend's feelings. Nevertheless, Amy had taken her lesson to heart. Her boyfriend wasn't going to take her advice when it came to physics and she should just understand it and accept it. Physics was his domain just as neurobiology was hers. She had to respect that. And she had all these many months.

Now, thanks to this recent turn of events, she was more baffled than ever.

"Son of a monkey," she moaned, as the full ramifications of the development hit her.

Alex watched her carefully. "What is it? Are you OK?"

"Y-y-yes, I'm fine. I'll just be on my way now." _Besides, I have a lot to think about before I see—_

"Come on, Cwooper! You can't be serwious."

Amy squeaked in alarm at this sound coming from around the corner and, without thinking, grabbed Alex and shoved her into the open office next to Sheldon's and quickly closed the door behind them.

"What are you—" Alex started before Amy slapped a hand over her mouth and glared her into silence as she tried to keep listening to the conversation going on in the hallway.

"I am indeed serious, Kripke. I told you. I do not wish to speak about this any longer. It is my private business. You will do as I have said?"

"But you'we telling me that, after dating you'we giwlfwiend fow thwee yeawrs, you hawen't had sex with hew? Whaw is she, a nun?"

From the increased volume of their speech, Amy could tell they had passed by the office. With another look of warning Sheldon's assistant to remain silent, she turned towards the door, cracked it open an inch or so, and peered out. Sheldon and Kripke were now standing in front of his office.

"Is this becawse she heawd us the othew day?"

Sheldon frowned. "No, it's because I am telling the truth. And unless you want a second black eye to match the first I gave you, I would not push me on this."

_Sheldon hit someone?_ _Sheldon hit Kripke? Why?_ Amy's jaw dropped.

"You can't weave it wike this. I need to know—" Kripke started.

"You only need to know that Dr. Amy Farrah Fowler is, first and foremost, a lady with the utmost integrity and decency. She is also a brilliant neurobiologist who is changing the way the world understands the brain and its functions, which might one day _ipso facto_ change how we look at physics. I am honored to have her in my life."

"Yeaw, yeaw, but you stiw got in hew pants, wight? Thewe's no hawm in admitting—"

"I have had no carnal knowledge of her body, and it was blatant lie for me to allow you to assume I had. The fault for this mess lies with me. You will relay all of this to your _friends_ or whoever you talk to about such things. Tell them whatever you want about me, but you will lay no blame or insult at the foot of Dr. Fowler. In fact, all chinwagging and erotic inference about her will cease." He stepped closer to the lisping physicist, using his height to intimidate. "Do you understand?"

"I undewstand," Kripke said, holding up his hands in surrender. "You know ewerbody is going to waugh at you, wight? I mean, what kind of man can't cwose the deaw after thwee yeaws? Awe you a monk ow something? They'we gonna wondew."

Sheldon shrugged. "Let them wonder. Let them talk. Let them laugh at me. I don't care as long as they are not laughing at _her_. My relationship with Amy is just that … mine. No one needs to understand but us. If I hear anyone is mocking her, I will be coming after _you_." He paused before adding. "Got it?"

Kripke nodded, but stayed silent.

Sheldon waved him off like a lackey. "Now go. I have work to do, and I have no wish to discuss this any longer and certainly not in a public hallway. Good day." And, with that, he walked into his office and shut the door.

Kripke watched him a few minutes before he turned and walked away. "What a weiwdo," he grumbled.

The second he was gone, Amy fell against the door in shock, feeling it bump shut under her body. She didn't care. Her brain simply couldn't process what had occurred. _Sheldon just … He … with Kripke. Gee whiz! Did that really happen?_

Amy could not remember a time when she'd ever been defended like this by a man. Not in high school when her classmates toilet-papered her desk in calculus and wrote "freak" all over it. Her teacher, Mr. Edwards, had reddened and gruffly ordered her to clean it up.

Not in college when she tried to join the Delta Gamma and ended up being tricked into stripping down to her bra and half-slip and then been locked out of the sorority house at three in the morning. The girls all stood on the balcony of the house and laughed at her. Even the guys in the fraternity house across the way had made cat-calls, begging her to put on more clothes and calling her a mutant, as she tried to scurry back her dorm. Campus security found her before she made it to the end of the block. It took the two male officers about three seconds to deduce what happened. They offered a ride back to her dorm, but did nothing to any of her tormenters.

But now. But _this_. Amy simply couldn't believe it. She was overcome by a heady, prideful euphoria that made her want to run next door and kiss Sheldon speechless. Sure, he was the one who had made this mess in the first place. But to have him admit so many things to his most hated of mortal enemies … the mortification and humiliation he must have felt …

"All for me," she whispered faintly.

If Amy hadn't already been in love with Sheldon before, she certainly would have been after this. Who wouldn't be? But she wasn't sure what he would say if he found out she'd been here the whole time and had overheard that. Would that make his mortification worse? How would she explain her presence when she couldn't even explain it to herself? Besides, he surely had plans to inform her about his successful bout at making amends tonight on their date. She would allow him his moment to brag. He had certainly earned it.

"Dr. Fowler?"

Startled, she looked up, having totally forgotten that she wasn't alone. Alex was staring at her, looking bewildered. No doubt, she'd heard everything that had passed between Kripke and Sheldon in the hallway as well. Amy blushed, feeling a little mortified herself to have her romantic business out in the open like that. The two women continued to stare at each other for the longest time until, finally, they both began to smile.

Alex was the first to speak. "In all honesty, I've always had a hard time grasping why any woman would want to be romantically linked to Dr. Cooper. He's always so remote, clinical, and … demanding," she said. "But I think I understand now." She shook her head in disbelief. "You're a lucky woman, Dr. Fowler. I didn't think he had it in him."

"Me either," she murmured, releasing a happy little laugh.

"I have to get back to work. He'll be looking for me soon."

Straightening, Amy nodded, returning to her usual stoic expression. She had to get back to work as well. Her own assistant would be wondering where she was. There would be time to think over all of this later. "Yes, of course. My apologies for forcing you in here and all the manhandling."

"No problem. You needed to hear that. It was quite romantic, really."

"Yes, it was."

"I'll make sure Dr. Cooper doesn't know you were here."

"Thank you. He's lucky to have you as well. He thinks you're very intelligent, by the way."

Alex's usual owl-like expression relaxed into a delighted grin. "Really?"

"Really. I am not surprised he's allowing you to help him in his research. You deserve it."

The assistant straightened proudly. "I recognize how rare an opportunity this is. I won't let him down. I promise."

Amy patted the girl on her shoulder. "Make sure you don't." Stepping aside, she pulled open the office door and got out of the way as she left the room. There were a few more minutes before Amy left as well. In the end, she had to walk about a half-block out of the way in order to get to the parking lot without having to pass by Sheldon's office again, but as she had plenty of thoughts, feelings, and memories to process to keep her busy.

_The man I love just defended me to the world and called me a brilliant neurobiologist._

Yep, she was one lucky woman all right.

—**TMR—**

Amy had never been nervous on a date before. Bored, irritated, confused, and resigned? Yes, many times, but never nervous. To be nervous and excited at the same time made it all the more strange. To be pacing rapidly back and forth in front of her door at 6:54 that evening waiting on her date to show up for what could turn out to be the most important night of her life …

"Ugh!" she said, swinging around to pace again. She'd already checked her make up twice, straightened her cardigan three times, and repeated the simple greeting she had prepared for Sheldon so many times she had lost count.

"Good evening, Sheldon. How are you?"

It shouldn't have been that big a deal. It also shouldn't have been an issue to get her naturally straight hair to not frizz and lay flat against her shoulders, but it was. Even putting on her brown hose had been an exercise in torture to the point when she'd tossed them aside in frustration and decided to go without. She knew it wasn't really the case of nerves she was battling that was to blame here. It was her lack of focus. Even her afternoon back at work had been a complete waste of time because all she could focus on was what she'd overheard back at Caltech. _Sheldon defended me to Kripke. He told him the truth. He said … oh he said … _

Stopping midstride, she dug into her purse for a compact and checked her appearance.

"I'm worse than one of those blonde ditzy girls who are always worried about breaking a nail," she grumbled, only to let out a yelp of indignation a moment later when she noticed she had some colored lip gloss on her front tooth.

She was rubbing it off with the tip of her index finger when she remembered that Sheldon didn't approve of lip gloss at all. "Too slippery," she said, rushing to the bathroom to find an accommodating box of Kleenex to get rid of the offensive lip covering. There was none on the counter, so she pulled open the bathroom cabinet door to search in there. She was getting out a box when she noticed an old copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ hastily flung on top.

"What in the world?"

It wasn't her only copy, but it was her first copy. It was the one she'd first read in high school when she'd wondered if her own brooding Mr. Darcy was out there and when she could fool herself into thinking she was an Elizabeth. She'd treated it almost like a life manual, highlighting her favorite sections and writing notes in the margins in places. She'd even memorized whole sections—as if being more prepared would somehow make what happens in the pages of this book happen in her life. She'd hidden it here so no one could see how much she'd befouled this classic masterpiece's pages. She was usually one who believed books to be sacred tomes that should be treated with the respect and reverence they deserve. She supposed she could have gotten rid of it, but it was her first copy of the novel and her favorite. It reminded her of how much she loved it and how much she had wanted to be like the audacious heroine Elizabeth Bennet.

Flipping through the pages, Amy let out a little laugh. Up until today, if someone had asked her, she would have said her ideal lover would have been the infamous Mr. Darcy. Who wouldn't? There was a reason this novel was still so revered two hundred or so years after its first publication. Even though she had pretty much learned to accept she would never be an Elizabeth, she had still yearned for the brooding, quiet, intelligent, thoughtful, stoic, and often misunderstood man who could love her with such intensity and such passion that she would want to faint at his feet. She had always considered herself worthy of such a man—but had realized pretty quickly that such men didn't seem to agree with her on that.

Now, she realized it didn't matter. Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy was a figment of a long-dead woman's imagination. Amy didn't want a figment anymore. She wanted a flesh and blood man. She wanted Sheldon. Their relationship wasn't perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but it was theirs and she wanted it, she would fight for it.

Amy looked down at the cover, remembering how she had once considered that any man in a cravat and a top hat would be sexy. More than once, she had lamented that they were no longer in fashion. Sheldon, however, would look uncomfortable and severe. She preferred him in his sensible brown shoes and checkered suit, the one that brought out the little flecks of silver in his blue eyes.

A series of knocks followed by the repeating of her name broke Amy from her reverie. _He's here. He's here. Sheldon is here._ Her heart skipped a beat and a jolt of excitement wisped through her like the first crisp wind of fall.

With one last look at the book, she tossed it into the cabinet again and went out to answer the door. "Goodbye, Mr. Darcy," she sing-songed as she made it through the living room. A few seconds later, she pulled the door open to find Sheldon standing the hallway in his checkered suit.

Amy smiled, delighted. "Hello, Dr. Cooper."

* * *

**A/N: This chapter was originally a lot (LOT) longer. However, as I was editing, I realized it really needed to be two chapters instead. Thus, you get the first part today and the second part … another day. Soon. I promise. Sooner if you put the pressure on me through reviews. (Yeah, I went there. LOL.)**

**A reviewer asked me who I thought was the best Darcy, and I will tell you it is Colin Firth. The 2005 movie with Keira Knightly was cute, but the 1995 BBC adaptation of **_**Pride and Prejudice**_** is the definitive version and Firth's take on Darcy really helped make that so. I agree with Amy. Men in cravats and top hats are so sexy. It is too bad both are currently out of fashion. Hmm … I wonder if I could talk my significant other into wearing them?**


	20. Flirting With Disaster

**Chapter 20: Flirting With Disaster **

If wooing Amy Farrah Fowler were a combat campaign, Sheldon Cooper would have been able to claim about as much victory as General Custer at the battle of Little Bighorn. It wasn't easy to admit defeat. In fact, as a man who excelled in so many subjects, it was hard to believe courtship would be akin to driving in the list of things he couldn't accomplish successfully.

_I'm going to lose her._

Sheldon had been trying so hard to be what Amy needed, trying harder at this than he'd ever tried before. But it still wasn't good enough. He knew it. He couldn't pinpoint an exact moment in the course of the evening which would indicate this to him. It was more that everything just felt … wrong somehow.

And now. And _this_. He couldn't do it. But, then again, he couldn't _not_ do it. Sheldon shook his head and grumbled, "I am obstructed amid a naturally occurring solid aggregate and a dense, inflexible location. No doubt about that."

"What was that?" Amy asked, turning from her conversation with Koothrappali to look at him.

"Nothing," Sheldon replied and went back to researching the ridiculous task Penny had given him.

If he hadn't managed to ruin the evening already, this latest calamity would certainly achieve that end quite well. Fear and a healthy dose of anger coursed through him. It shouldn't be this way. Sheldon had done everything right. He had followed the rules and protocol of dating laid down to him by _Pride and Prejudice_, Koothrappali, Leonard, Penny, and Google.

Hadn't he? His eidetic memory went through each point in the evening carefully.

He'd worn a suit, even though it wasn't their anniversary, Valentine's Day or Amy's birthday and even though the material in his shirt caused him to itch worse than the summer he contracted chicken pox.

He'd brought flowers to Amy when he came to her apartment to pick her up, even though any idiot who knew her would know she would have preferred a book on medieval medicine or a limited edition of one of her favorite movies, _My Fair Lady_, on Blue Ray.

He'd held open every door, even though it made much more logical sense in this day and age of equality of the sexes for the one closer to the door to do so.

He'd complimented her navy blue cardigan even though her intellect, sense of humor, and wit were undoubtedly her most alluring qualities. He told her the pea green button down shirt she wore underneath the sweater brought out the fiery ribbons of auburn in her hair, even though it made him sound like a beatnik at a love in. Penny had insisted he say something like that, even though he had pointed out that Amy was too practical to want to hear such utter nonsense. The frown she gave him when he'd said it proved how right he was about that.

Still, he soldiered on. He didn't point out the obvious rudeness that occurred when she and Koothrappali—who had been acting as their chauffeur for the evening—spent the entire ride to the Cheesecake Factory chatting like magpies, even though Amy was obviously Sheldon's date and should have spent her time speaking to him instead.

He'd ushered her inside the restaurant and hadn't argued when the apparently new hostess forwent their usual table and sat them too near the restrooms for his comfort. Thankfully, Amy had intervened and rectified the situation before he contracted some deadly airborne illness from the unwashed masses frequenting the public toilet.

He didn't protest when Penny came over to take their order and talked to Amy for a solid three minutes about shoes instead of doing her job, even though this was the part of the date when they were supposed to be enjoying mandatory "small talk". He also didn't snort derisively when Penny remarked on what a "cute couple" they were or object when his burger was delivered without the barbecue sauce on the side, even though his bun was left a soggy, inedible mess.

No, he'd gritted his teeth through all of it, compelling himself along with the mantra_ It's for Amy. I can do it for her. _Moreover, he'd put on his best "train" face—since Amy was less familiar with this one and, therefore, less likely to recognize it than his "koala" one.

He had spent the majority of the evening steering the conversation to topics Amy preferred such as monkeys; _Canterbury Tales_; biology, and, for some strange reason, the high power velocity of toothbrushes. However, Amy would respond to any query he put before her in a simple, concise answer and switch to an area he enjoyed. When she brought up matter versus antimatter, for example, he babbled on for a solid twenty minutes before he remembered what he was about and changed the subject again. That happened so often, he feared he had irretrievably hogged most of the conversation time.

He had ignored his phone and spent every moment of dinner watching her. Likewise, this became a problem because his eyes frequently locked on her rubicund glossed lips. He couldn't help wondering if her mouth was as slippery as it looked and if the gloss had a flavor. Perhaps cherry? His mind set about devising an experimental kissing session in hopes of solving these particular queries when he realized the reprehensible turn his thoughts had taken. Amy was a lady, after all. What kind of gentleman was he to think that way? After a long, one-sided mental chiding session, he'd focused his attention firmly on her chin.

That is, until she'd said, "Do I have something on my face?"

"What?" he replied, startled.

"You keep staring at my chin. Is there some food or something on it?" She pulled a compact from her purse and started checking.

"No," he said. "I was just …" His brain scrambled for an adequate response, "admiring the gleam of your skin. It's quite … fetching."

She frowned again. Then, when Penny returned with their checks and he handed over his credit card to cover both, Amy's jaw dropped open.

"What?" he asked, afraid he had done something else wrong.

"You're paying both checks?"

Oh sweet Jesus, wasn't he supposed to do so? Leonard had been so insistent. Fearfully, he watched her and said, "Yes?"

Amy said nothing, just stared at him with a frown. The frown became more pronounced as Penny returned with his receipt. He opened the black holder to sign it and found a little handwritten note up near the top. No, not just a note. More of a command.

"Good Lord," he muttered, staring at the scrawled dictate in what was clearly his blonde neighbor's handwriting. Why didn't she just request that he strip off all his clothes and run around clucking like a chicken? That would have been easier than this _task_ she'd give him.

"What is it? Is the bill too much?" Amy asked, digging in her purse. "I can pay my share if you—"

"No," Sheldon squeaked in alarm. He had to pay. It was the rule. If he messed up this part as well, he didn't think he could recover. "No, there's no problem." He quickly scribbled his signature and a clear ten percent tip at the bottom before handing the holder back to a smirking Penny.

_We'll see how much she smirks when she sees what her little note cost her monetarily_, he thought.

"Thank you," he said between gritted teeth.

"Oh, you are very welcome, Casanova," Penny replied in that annoyingly cheerful tone she utilized on those rare occasions when she'd managed to outmaneuver him.

Sheldon glared his disapproval of her tone and the inappropriate nickname. It took all he had not to point out that Giacomo Girolamo Casanova was an eighteenth century womanizer who had about as much in common with him as Edward Cullen did with Vlad the Impaler.

Even though the note was physically out of his presence, his memory kept it firmly alive in his mind. Honestly, Penny had to be crazy. What she wanted from him was ridiculous. He could never do it. How did one even begin?

Yet, even as they rose from the table and made it back to the car, he knew it was his one chance to salvage what remained of this date and to show Amy once and for all how much he deserved to have her as his girlfriend. He could force himself if he really, _really_ tried.

_How to proceed?_ Googling it on his phone was a good beginning. No doubt, there would be examples for him to follow out there somewhere. Hopefully, instinct and a familiarity with Amy would take care of the rest. He swallowed hard and swiped at the sweat beading his upper lip as he considered the ramifications of what he was going to attempt. How many times had he mocked others for this? How many times had he seen the likes of Leonard and Howard attempt this and fail? Honestly, it was unimaginable that he would be considering it. But, even as he thought that, he knew Penny was right. This was a date, and this behavior was expected of a male suitor. And, as quick as that, the decision was made.

Sheldon Lee Cooper was going to flirt with Amy Farrah Fowler.

—**TMR—**

Amy couldn't help but notice how quiet Sheldon was on the ride back to her apartment. In fact, he kept impatiently typing on his phone as though he were searching for something. And, except for one bit of mumbling, he had said nothing. Rajesh more than filled the silence, detailing more on his research into dark matter. Amy had faked a curiosity about this on the way to the restaurant, but she couldn't summon the energy this time. Something was really wrong with Sheldon, and she was worried it might be her.

She couldn't imagine what she'd done to offend him. He'd been the perfect gentleman all evening—a little too perfect if she had her say in it. He'd worn a suit and brought her flowers, but looked so uncomfortable and unlike himself that it had taken the fun out of something she'd always assumed she wanted from him.

He'd held every door, he hadn't complained throughout dinner—even though his order had been unsalvageable and he had to be hungry—and he had kept the conversation loaded with her favorite topics. This turn of events should have made Amy happy. Instead, they made her feel as though she were dating a stranger.

She missed Sheldon's unceasing complaints, opinionated nature, and ruthless need for hygiene and order. It made him … him. The only time he'd seemed like himself had been a brief twenty minutes when they'd been discussing matter versus antimatter. He'd been as animated about the subject as she was and she'd felt energized and reminded of the early months of their relationship when she'd considered him to be the most exciting, intense, and multifaceted man of her acquaintance.

Now, he was … Amy wasn't sure what he was. She just wanted it to stop. Her excitement for the evening was gone. She'd thought they would spend this date as they usually did. Then, he'd spring his surprise announcement about Kripke on her. But, so far, it hadn't happened. And, as Sheldon walked her to her door still staring at his phone, his brow knitted and his thin lips twisted into what looked like a scowl, she was pretty confident it wasn't going to occur.

_What is happening here?_ _Is he bored with me or something?_ As Amy closed the distance to her front door, she knew her time was running low on finding out.

"Sheldon, would you like to come inside?"

He looked up at her, almost startled. Then, with a quick glance back at his phone, he stared warily at her for a moment before breaking into an expression that seemed like he was in pain. Then, he lowered his voice and said, "Would you like me to come inside?"

_Is he leering at me?_ "Yes," she carefully replied. "That would be why I asked in the first place."

They continued to look at each other for another long minute. Finally, Amy turned and walked into her side. Sheldon followed behind her. She offered a beverage, but he declined in favor of taking a seat in his usual spot on her couch. She sat next to him and was about to ask what was going on when he leaned in incredibly close and said, "Amy Farrah Fowler, you smell."

Amy jolted back. "I do?" She took quick whiffs of her sweater, trying to discern an odor, but found nothing which could be perceived as repugnant. She looked back at Sheldon, only to find him again engrossed in his phone.

"Intoxicating," Sheldon suddenly blurted out, his face so red he seemed almost sunburned as he looked at her. "I meant you smell intoxicating."

_That's it. I have got to know what is happening here._ Amy snatched the phone out of his hand. "What are you doing? What is this all about?" Scanning the phone, she was shocked to see what he had been reading. "You Googled 'flirting'?" she asked in shock. "Why?"

His eyes were as wide as saucers and his face was devoid of expression as he stared uneasily back at her. She had to repeat her question an additional two times before he finally replied.

"Penny told me to."

"Since when do you take orders from Penny?"

He studied the knee of his pants with a grimace as he mumbled his answer.

"What was that?"

No answer.

"Sheldon." She tried again. "Talk to me. What exactly is going on here? Why are you acting so out of character? Holding doors, bringing flowers, flirting? What is this about?"

He shrugged, still refusing to look up. "It's nothing."

Amy crossed her arms over her chest, focused the force of her gaze on him, and waited. A few seconds later, he peeked up at her like a naughty child scared of being scolded.

"You're lying to me?" she asked.

The blush on his cheeks somehow darkened to an almost purple color as he sank against the back of the couch and put his hands up to cover his face, apparently mortified beyond bearing. Amy immediately reached out to touch him, but thought better of it at the last moment. She didn't want to scare him off now of all times. Whatever this was, it was big.

She was just pulling her hand back when his fingers snaked out to capture her wrist. Clasping her hand, he pulled it back towards him, cradling against him even as he refused to look at her. They sat this way for a long while, neither saying a word, the only connection between them their intertwined hands. Every once and a while, he squeezed her fingers, almost as if to remind himself she was there. And, every time he did, she squeezed in return.

Amy sat back against the couch, relaxing into the moment and waiting for him to get a hold on himself enough to explain. Finally, when the silence was so loud it seemed to be ringing in her ears, he took a ragged breath and turned to her.

"Amy," he said, "I want to apologize."

_Again?_ She thought. _What egregious error could he have possibly done now? _Honestly, she'd always considered that he should take responsibility for his actions more, but this was ridiculous. He'd never been more behaved in his life.

Sheldon opened his mouth to speak again, but said nothing. Then, as though exasperated, he let go of her hand and stood up. The next thing she knew, he was pacing agitatedly in front of her, muttering to himself. Amy watched all of this, spellbound. Had his lost his mind?

"Sheldon, yo—"

He stopped unexpectedly and snapped, "Amy, I—" Just as quick as he started, he ceased and began pacing again. This time, a ritualistic yanking on his short, brown hair was now added to his list of odd behavior. A full minute later, he stopped again, turning to look at her once more. Little tufts of hair spiked out all over his head, giving him a tousled, little-boy-just-woken-from-a-nap appearance. His hands fisted at his sides.

"Amy," he began again. "I am sorry. I've struggled with this. I really have. I … You are … important to me." He stepped closer to her. "_Very_ important. I know now that I would cease functioning properly if you were not in my life. I fear that even physics would begin to lose its appeal if you were not with me. In fact, I know this to be true because I completed a complex equation on Thursday and I didn't even care—I didn't care—because I couldn't tell you about it." He slumped down on her coffee table, sitting there with his hands in his hair. "I am a right-angled object impelled involuntarily into a spherical hollow."

"A square peg in a round hole?" she murmured.

Sheldon's head popped up to look at her. "Yes, exactly." He let out a low, agonized groan. "Yet, as much as I … adore … you, I cannot be this … gentleman you want anymore. It is simply not possible. I have been driven nearly insane during the course of this evening."

He yanked on his tie. "This suit is incredibly itchy, the flowers I brought you soaked my pants leg clean through, and I can't stop thinking about all of the germs that have no doubt dried into my clothing. Honestly, it's all I can do to keep my pants on."

Amy bit back a smile at his unintended suggestion and waited for him to continue.

"I am a terrible boyfriend. I know that. I thought I could be better. I did. And I tried." He looked at her with pleading eyes. "I did. I tried to exhibit every courtesy, I followed every rule. I even tried to flirt with you. Me! Flirting! Can you believe it? But it was all for naught." He slumped, clearly defeated. "I'm going to lose the only woman I have ever and will ever love, and there is nothing I can do about it."

Amy didn't think. She didn't need to. She only did what came naturally to her. Not only in terms of her own character, but in terms of every magnificent word just said by this wonderful man. There was only one thing to do at a time like this, when a man and woman shared feelings like this, when a man was willing to go to these lengths for the woman he so desperately loved. If he wanted to protest, he could, but she was still going to try, try to demonstrate to him in some small, physical way how much she desperately loved him in return.

Amy Farrah Fowler was going to make love to Sheldon Lee Cooper.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the delay. It was unavoidable. Next chapter is coming soon. Bring your fans. It's about to get hot in here, folks.**


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